Civil War Stories, The Will of the Senate

[GeneralHankerchief]

Off the Italian Coast

It was almost time for landfall. The trip had been mind-numbingly slow one, even though Marcellus Aemilius knew that Admiral Appius was pushing his crew to the limit. Some time ago the crew had detected something coming from the west, in the direction of Caralis, but Marcellus ignored it. Only Italia mattered.

Marcellus stared out into the sea again, as he had done many times before. Thinking... thinking of the last time he had taken a sea voyage...

...it was the autumn of 253 BC, at the Aemilii estate just outside of Roma. It was time for the midterm elections. All the senators had dropped everything and made for the capital, but this time it was to do usual Senatorial business instead of desparately try to control the peninsula.

The mood was good at the Aemilius family reunion. Servius had just mended ties with the family, saw some relatives for the first time since his Consular election, and had just seconded some legislation that Marcellus had drawn up. All was good.

Pater Lucius was laughing and sharing a drink with his adopted son and friend, Valerius Pallus. Manius the Mad was entertaining several of the children with... erm... impersonations, while his son, also named Marcellus, buried his head in his hands. Oppius was chatting with several young women, none of them looking anything like an Aemilius, about his experiences with the now-famous Battle of the Fort.

The rolling grassy fields of the estate were abound with life that magical evening.

A young, beautiful woman was shown to where the games were being held by the Aemilii's manservant Cato. She looked around at the festivities, clearly oblivious to all the merriment going on all around her. Instead, her mind was still on the invitation to this event.

"Why would someone five years older than me, who I first met when he was in his last year at the Scriptorium tell me to come here?" she thought. She barely knew the guy and yet he was telling her to come to this. This was the Aemilii family reunion! Aemilii! You couldn't get much more patrician or Roman than that!

She looked around for a few more minutes before spotting the man who had invited her.

"Marcellus!" she called out and waved. "Over here!"

Marcellus, spotting her, came over and greeted her. "Ah, Eutropia," he said, "glad to see you again. Come on, have some fun! There's somebody that I want you to meet."

"Um, Marcellus," she said, "why did you invite me here tonight? You and I barely know each other."

"Shh," he replied. "This isn't about people who barely know each other. This is about people who don't know each other at all. Eutropia, this is my nephew and our Consul, Servius Aemilius."

She gasped. "Wait - THE Servius Aemilius? The one who won all those battles in Afrika? The one who proposed this grand strategy in the east? The one who beat you in the Consular election?"

"Charmed, my lady." Servius stepped in, greeting Eutropia. "Although my dear uncle here insists that a series of raids would still have been wiser."

Marcellus ignored the present conversation. "Eutropia is VERY interested in foreign cultures, Servius."

Servius' eyes lit up. "Ah! Indeed, I have a bit of fascination with other peoples myself - when I'm not too busy killing them, that is." At this, Eutropia laughed. Marcellus, satisfied, departed. Neither of the other two noticed.

An hour later, Marcellus and Oppius were watching the two, sharing a drink and in deep conversation. All of their attention was focused on the other.

"Looks like setting him up with Eutropia was a good idea," said Oppius, coughing. Despite this, he still grinned.

Marcellus nodded. "Maybe now this'll hide his military side a little bit."

The reunion continued long into the night, with the festivities and drinking running late. But Servius and Eutropia noticed none of it, still paying all of their attention to the other.

Back on the ship, Marcellus mused. "That was a great night. Why couldn't it have lasted? Now I have to defeat Servius, endure Eutropia's eternal anger, and I still don't know what to do about Oppius. I just hope they all one day understand. The man she married is dead..."

He continued to stare out into the sea until a soldier tapped him on the back.

"Sir, it's time!"

"Thank you, soldier." He ran into the cabin where his own wife, Magna, was giving birth.

After an arduous several minutes, Marcellus had delivered the couple's third child. It was a boy.

"What shall we name him, dear?"

"I think we'll call him Herius. It's a good, strong name."

"He's so beautiful," she crooned.

"That's what Manius and his wife said about Servius," he said to himself.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nothing."

Really, it all came down to family, didn't it? This Roman Civil War, already the cause of thousands of casualties, was just caused by one powerful, dysfunctional family. Marcellus reckoned that the next reunion would be a lot bloodier.

He stayed with Magna and Herius and waited for landfall.