Civil War Stories, The Will of the Senate

[Lucjan]

Marcellus's eyes widened as he studied the letter from the consul with intensity.

Congratulations on making it to Rome first Marcellus. It looks like the day of our final meeting is coming nearer by the minute. Perhaps, if you will it, it will occur before this spring has ended. But that decision will be yours.

Why did it have to come this far Marcellus? The impeachment failed, I was set to leave office. And yet you went on and supported a man who, in failing his first attempt at removing me from my office a few mere weeks before its set end, pushed yet another emergency vote? To what end will you support these traitors to the Roman name? To what end will you support these madmen, these despots? What deal did you make with them?

I had hope for you Marcellus. I had great hopes for you. Surely you remember our private communications?

Just in case you don't, let me refresh your memory.

You wished the consulship when I was done, but the senate wanted to look east, again turning their head away from your opinion, from your perception of wisdom. We spoke at length of making you consul after my reign, of continueing a just and rightful rule after my conquests finished setting up Rome for a period of peace. But the senate spoke at length of eastern invasion, an idea those fools opposed earlier with every ounce of their strength. And you asked me Marcellus, what could be done.

Do you remember my answer Marcellus? I do. I remember telling you to trust in me, that I would hand you the consulship unopposed. All you had to do was quietly support me.

Marcellus, thanks to me, you were set to be consul when I was finished. You had no opposition in the world.

I started the war with Iberia so that you could bring about the golden age I had set Rome up to see! And still you betrayed me!
And that is why we are here today Marcellus. It is not my fault, it is not Numerious's fault, I would have avoided that filthy squelcher to my dieing days and he would have never caught me. No, we are at war, for you! And worse, much worse still, is that you have betrayed the man who would have made you Rome's most celebrated leader for all time. If you had only used your brain and calmed the senate's anger, pushed your position on the west and demanded votes for the consulship be made so that you could pick up the pieces of the supposed "disaster" I had started with Iberia. I had hope for you Marcellus. I thought you could see these things.

I thought you were an Aemilii.

The senate has accused me of treachery, of being a traitor. They should be looking amongst their own ranks.

I hope I have given you all the answers you sought Marcellus. But in that respect, it's time for you to do your thinking on your own. Here is the world as it stands uncle..here is the world as I have created it.

Firstly, you are not the only man to receive this letter. Hope when the other senators receive this note, they do not turn their hunt on you instead. A copy of this has been dispatched to each of them, and I've already made sure that these words will be spread amongst the people too.

Secondly, What is more important to you Marcellus? Me, or Rome? I will not just lie down and die for you or for any other member of that wretched political body you call a senate. You have a serious choice to make. March on me now, or march back to Rome. Why? Because while you were busy playing hero, pretending to sail off from Carthage and rescue Rome from that terrible Servius, I was off making friends. Carthage was far from defeated when you left its shores, and now a Carthaginian army easily the equal in size and might of a full consular legion is set to march on Rome. In war, Marcellus, you can't just look straight ahead, you have to see what's going on behind you too.

And lastly, no matter how this situation ends, no matter what we must do...remember that fateful day. The day I declared war on Iberia and disgraced myself for you. The day I gave up all honor for you. The day I gave up everything, that you may become consul and lead Rome into the golden age I had prepared it to see. Marcellus, if you thought I had lost my soul in Carthage, you were sorely mistaken. You see, without a soul, man can't feel pain. But your treason has pained me far greater than you could ever imagine. So remember that fateful day, and when you pass unto Hades to be judged and sent to your rightful place in the afterlife, ask yourself, "What did I possibly think I wanted from Tartarus?"

Servius

[Mount Suribachi]

Northern Sardinia

Oppius was stunned. In shock. His mind was a swirling whirlpool of questions, assumptions, contradictary information, and guesses.

If the surprise meeting between himself and the general of a large Carthaginian army under a banner of truce wasn't shocking enough, the discussion that took place in the tent was truly staggering. That Muttines of Corduba should speak to him as an equal, even make suggestions that had the whiff of orders beggared belief.

Had Servius really made a peace deal with Carthage? Was he really going to use this Punic army to bolster his campaign against the Senate? An army that had just laid waste to the city of Caralis? Was that really the payment that was needed to secure the deal? Would Servius really stoop so low?

No, thought Oppius, there is every chance that this is some kind of trick! Those Afrikans were reknowned for their treachery, surely this was just some kind of underhand skullduggery, designed to exploit the divisions within the Republic. After all, it was the kind of thing Oppius would do were the roles to be reversed.....

What if those "suggestions" that had been made by Muttines on how to co-ordinate their strategy were falsehoods? What if Carthage were not to keep their part of the bargain? Oppius and his legion would be hung out to dry - they wouldn't stand a chance!

Oppius found his eyes narrowing, his breathing became deeper, angrier, more focussed. No, he wasn't about to walk into a trap laid by those Carthaginian dogs! Or - he gasped - what if it was actually the Senate who had struck a deal with Carthage? What if this was all some kind of giant double cross, some wicked conspiracy?

No, Oppius would not be fooled so easily. For now he would at least make the effort of pretending to follow the "suggestions" of his new ally. But he wouldn't make a definitive move, not yet.

But still, one thought dominated his mind, I must make contact with Servius!!!

[SwordsMaster]

Luca Mamillus



North of Rome



Callimachus landed heavily as he jumped off the horse, a grey Tunisian stallion he somehow managed to buy from a Carthaginian merchant in Syracuse a long time ago.

“So what are the news?” I asked as the greek walked cautiously dodging the puddles and climbed the steps to the entrance.

“Well, Rome is quiet.” He said. “Are you not going to offer a tired traveller a warm drink, or better even, a warm woman?” apparently he was not too tired.

I chuckled and let him in. Sidonia, the prettiest slave I had brought with me, was setting the table in the kitchen. For the things that we needed to talk about, the large dining salon seemed inappropriate. Besides, it was nicer to sit by the fire.

“Wash your hands you barbarian.” I said, and took a seat at the table. Another slave brought water for Callimachus’ hygienic needs, and Sidonia poured warm wine. “Now leave us.” The slaves hurried out of the room.

I checked the doors, making sure there was a guard on each one. The trusted praetorians were on their posts, and I exchanged a few words with them. They were all patricians, and they have all become almost family.

As I returned to the room, Callimachus was pouring more wine in his glass. “So…” I said.

“We are going to meet Servius at the ford.” He said. “The three armies.” I nodded. It was the most logical option. This would be the battle for Rome. Servius’ veterans from Gaul and Iberia against newly recruited cohorts, gallic rabble, and an amalgam of Italian tribes. Of which I commanded a third. Fantastic.

At least in the last few days, I had managed to go to Rome. My need for revenge got duller and duller since Servius had landed, but I still needed to find the assassins to get the closure I would need later. If I lived, that is.

The city was tense. The usual market cheer was still there, but it was tense, dangerous, worried. Like a disturbed hive. There were more soldiers on the streets. And everyone who had the opportunity, including most senators had left. I visited my house, only to find it empty, and then tasked Callimachus with finding out anything he could about my wife’s dealings during my absence. For the first time in 8 years I cared. The gods must be delighted, I thought.

I didn’t spend much time in the city. It made me nervous. It is like there was a great pressure on my chest that I couldn’t quite remove. I visited all the temples, made all the necessary sacrifices, and with the priests satisfied, made a long stop at the temple of Mars. It was him who had to favour me now. If he didn’t it didn’t matter if the others did. I hoped he realised that as well as I did, and it mattered to him. Because if it didn’t I’d have to explain to the others very soon why I spent twice as much in placating Mars than any of the other gods. I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

[Mount Suribachi]

"Damn this rain!" thought Oppius. 5 straight days it had rained, a ceaseless, driving rain that chilled a man to the bone. Oppius was soaking wet, full of cold and very miserable. And in his misery he drew deep into himself, lost in thoughts of the Civil War, intruege, Carthaginian armies and double-crosses. Especially the latter.

After his meeting with Muttines of Corduba , Oppius had agreed to his plan for them to try and sail seperately to Italia. At least one of them would be able to dodge the Senate fleet waiting to intercept them. Oppius didn't like 50/50 odds of survival. So he had at least gone through the motions of loading his men onto the ships, but slowly, oh so slowly. And once his scouts reported that the Carthaginian army had boarded their ships and sailed towards Italy, Oppius immediately began unloading his legion.

He was still unsure of their loyalty. A letter had arrived from his brother assuring him that Servius really had struck a deal with Carthage, but was this just more Senate trickery? And still there was no word from Servius. But if Servius had made such a shocking deal, Oppius was sure of one thing. As soon as their usefulness had been consumed, Servius would dispose of them as one would dispose of a toilet rag. A disgusting but necessary tool, to be discarded as soon as possible.

With that in mind he had come a conclusion. He couldn't risk trying to cross the straits to Italy, but what he could do was retake Caralis from Carthage. Or what was left of it. The sight and smell of that burning city still haunted him, filled him with rage and anger at what Carthage had done. Just talking to the locals after his meeting with Muttines it was clear that they were the perpetrators of this vile act. Oppius couldn't wait for the civil war to end so he could head to Afrika once more and burn their cities as Carthage had burnt Caralis.....

These were the thoughts that filled his mind as his legion plodded south through the rain. He was rudely awoken from his pondering by the agitated cries of his bodyguards. Through the rain he could hear shouting and the bang and crash of sword and shield. What was going on he thought to himself as he turned round on his horse and.......ye gods!! There charging into the right flank of his column was the entire Carthaginian army!!! A quick glance revealed the banner of Muttines at the head of the charging horde!!



A thousand thoughts swirled round Oppius's head in that split second. How had we missed them, there is no cover to our left?! Why didn't they ambush us from the trees to our right? Why are they attacking us? Why are they here and not in Italy? When did they come back? Who are they reallyworking for? And above all else was the realisation that the banging and crashing he had heard was not the clash of arms, for the armies had not yet joined. No, it was his veteran Principes. They had spotted the enemy ambush before anyone else and they were taunting their surprise attackers! Jupiter bless the Roman soldier he thought, who else would taunt an enemy who had just ambushed them?



And then things began to move at a lightning pace and such thoughts were totally gone from his head. His army was in column and outnumbered 2 to 1, they were fighting for their very lives, all of them.

[Lucjan]

The fire crackled with little intensity, an ominous allusion to the sound of battle as heard from a great distance. A reminder of the clatter of arms and armor, the din of battle drowned out by distance but still so clearly recognizable as its own, unique noise.
Servius stood beside it, apparently alone, but as the darkness hides the creatures of the night, so too may it hide man. The clatter of hooves approached, and Servius turned his back to the flames, bathed in an eerie orange glow, he faced his uncle with a twisted smile.

"Marcellus, and without your legion. Some honor remains in you yet."

Servius spread his cloak to reveal that he was unarmed, and that wicked smile faded from his face, instead, there was a flicker of a frown.

"Thank you for coming Marcellus." He said, taking a seat on a rock beside the fire, and dullfully poked at it's core with a stick. "I'm glad you could make it. But you know as much as I that this meeting could not be avoided."

Marcellus grunted. He was in the same foul mood as before, when he and Oppius had met Servius at the fort in Afrika. This time, however, he spared no energy in hiding it or being a good host.

"Spare me the long-windedness Servius," he said testily. "You say your peace, and I'll say mine. I have to get back to the command tent. The six generals are going over strategy for tomorrow. Together."

He watched the fire for a minute. Servius took this as a sign that he was not done, that he was thinking of something else to say, but after another minute Marcellus looked up.

"Well?" he demanded. "Are we going to talk or did you ask for this meeting so you could just waste my time?"

Servius smirked. "Everything that can be said by me has been said Marcellus. I have given you the answers you saught, or did you not receive my message? I asked you here today because I want to hear your side of the story."

Standing again, he eyed Marcellus with little expression of interest, but there was that cold, emotionless stare that anyone close to Servius had learned meant he was analyzing you. He was studying you, like you were some kind of puppet for him to play with, and he was the one pulling the strings.

"The senate is in dire need of reform Marcellus. I see it, you have to see it, the world sees it, and they mock us. Half these 'barbarians' we conquer live more free lives than most Romans do. Because men who had once been wise and just are now tyranical, irrational and gluttonous in their thirst for power. They abuse their stations, they abuse their privelages, and they abuse the trust the people placed in them. Are you listening to me Marcellus?" Servius barked the last remark, his tone getting angry. "What have I worked so long for Marcellus? You preached peace, you wanted domestic improvement, you wanted change, you wanted a halt to the wars, but what do you do now? When I present you with the oppertunity to end the problems that have become more of a plague on the Republic than a hundred of the gods' worst scourges, what do you do? You turn on the plans you helped to forge? For what!?"

With what looked like a glimmer of humanity in his eyes, Servius stared directly into his uncle's gaze. "You may think I died in Afrika, Marcellus, but trust me, when you see the worst of horrors that a man can see, that is not what kills you. Doing nothing to try to prevent them from happening again is what kills you. The senate started this civil war when it realised what I was doing. In a war with Iberia we would be bringing men with free spirit, men with honor and dignity into Rome, men who would not bow a knee to blatant oppression and misrepresentation, but they didn't want that. They wanted the riches and slaves of the east, the sinful goods of conquest that would further fatten their bellies and fill their coffers with coin. I would stand beside a man defending his home, or trying to drive a corrupt politician from his village, and willfully die in the act before I would ever commit to protect a single greedy senator trying to acquire yet another trade lane, yet another caravan of slaves, or yet another pocket full of coin."

Turning his back on Marcellus then, he dropped the stick into the fire and sighed. "I am very much alive Marcellus, it is you who have died. You've let your own demons kill you."

Marcellus, tired of being stared out, gave his nephew a look right back. It was the look of a man who is infinitely tired, the look of a man who clearly did not want to be here but felt that he had to. He wondered if Servius would get the true meaning out of that look.

"You delude yourself, Servius." This was said simply and emotionlessly. It was a statement of truth, not an opinion. "You believe that this revolves around Iberia. I guess somebody has to set the record straight.

"First of all, I had no idea that you would do something so blatantly illegal when you said that you would set myself up in a great position," he began. This was accompanied with a harsh, humorless chuckle. "Obviously I was conflicted, but I still held up to the bargain and supported you. I did not vote for your impeachment. If you get past us, you can examine the records before you burn down the Senate building.

"So we were still at war with Iberia, right? Your little maneuver had passed, and I was all set to run. Everything was in the clear. I thought that you had learned your lesson." He paused.

"And then you had to go invade Thrace."

Servius opened his mouth to protest, but Marcellus cut him off. "Don't give me any of that crap about it not being your fault. You could have easily called them back. So then we're all dragged back for another impeachment vote, courtesy of you and your warmongering."

Inhale. Exhale. The next part would be rough.

"The Senate impeached you because they were following the law. Yes, certainly some Senators are not the most honorable, but they have no influence. And in times of emergency they can all be counted on to do their duty. You face one of these people tomorrow in Luca Mamilius.

"So you were all set to be impeached. With just a couple of weeks left in your Consulship. All right, I thought. Let Aureolus have his fun, he can rule for a couple of weeks and then I'll beat him in the election. But then, you see, something happened. YOU STILL DIDN'T GIVE UP.

"If you really wanted to reform the Senate then there was a perfect time coming up. The Session of the Summer of 250 BC. We have laws governing that sort of thing. The corrupt Senators you were aiming for probably wouldn't have even showed up to vote, which means they would have passed easily. But you didn't wait, which completely throws your argument into the fire."

At that very moment a spark popped from the fire. Both Aemilii stared at it for a second, and Servius started to speak.

"Shut up," Marcellus said, cutting him off again. "This war is being fought because one man does not want to give up power. Not for anything as noble as trying to purge the Senate. It was a nice move trying to make me the bad guy, really. But it didn't work. Soon the people will find out that you hired the Carthaginians who just sacked Caralis to help you out."

Servius grinned, shaking with a silent, sinister chuckle. Marcellus just smirked. "Oh yes, I know all about Muttines of Corduba. Admiral Appius saw with his very own eyes his men boarding your fleet. Luckily he is a very smart admiral and immediately attacked. In case you didn't know, your fleet has been thrown off-course and six ships have been lost.

"That in my mind lost any chance of me having any sympathies for you. No true Roman would make such a sickening move as to hire people who just murdered innocents to invade Italia. Faced with the choice of a man who does that or a bunch of greedy old men, I'll take the greedy old men. At least they're harmless."

At this, Marcellus took out the only thing he carried with him - a scroll.

"I am giving you one last out," he said in the same tone. "Surrender now. Naevius and Ignatius too. Give yourself up to the Senate, and agree to stand trial in Roma. If you do that, I promise to put a good word in. It's more than you deserve. So, what's it going to be?"

A couple of seconds passed. Marcellus grinned. "Yes, you can speak now."

I delude myself do I Marcellus? Yet you say those amongst this senate who are least honorable hold the least influence. Numerious Aureolus, Lucius, Tiberius Coruncanius, now yourself. All men of "influence" in the senate. Blasphemy! They're men of wealth, greed, nothing more.

The only delusion I've clung to Marcellus is that you might have an ounce of common sense left in your brain.

And Thrace, hah! You'll attempt to berate me for foreseeing this civil war before it occurred? You're truly a fool. Thrace happened to place my enemies as far away from myself as possible. Lucius and Tiberius have now willingly abandoned the east to Thrace because they can't stand the thought of losing their despotic little nooks of power amongst the senate. They'd sooner lose the eastern half of the Republic.

As for Caralis, what Carthage does to its own people is not my concern. Really Marcellus, don't try to make me look like a fool when you know nothing of the reality behind the situation. Caralis was and always has been populated by Carthaginian men, conquered long ago by Rome yes, but when was there ever an effort made to move Roman blood to that isle? Use your brain Marcellus, don't feed me your rhetorical crap. Carthage burning Carthaginian households, what does that matter to me? And don't give me your crap about there being ways to "legally" change the senate.

What kind of laws are drafted only by the rich and powerful, without the say of the comman man? Only ones that will never change in favor of the common man. And that is the state of Rome today. The senate would never review its election procedures, that would mean the vast majority of them would lose their power. You really think these are popular men? Don't be naive!

Get out of my sight Marcellus, your blindness sickens me. You are a disgrace to the Roman name, just like those you stand beside. Make your prayers to Mars and bleat your sheepish cries for Jupiter's blessings. You will need every ounce of help you can get in the battle to come.

Marcellus got up, made for the exit of the tent, and then turned, facing his nephew for what could very well be the last time.

"You know," he said, "you sicken me. You did not deny or express regret for the fact that you provided aid and assistance to Carthaginians, our greatest enemy. So for all your talk about the Senate being filled with 'men of wealth and greed,' the Roman people will never stand for a ruler when this information comes out.

"Sooner or later, whether it be by tomorrow evening or right before your death (or both), you will realize your fatal flaw:

"YOU *ARE* MORTAL."

Marcellus turned and exited the tent, with a final parting of "Fortuna be with you, nephew." Servius could hear hoofbeats heading away from the tent, back to the Senate camp.

The meeting had concluded. The battle for Rome was about to begin.

Servius turned then, taking one last look into the fire. "Carthage, heh... always one step behind Marcellus, always one step behind. By the time the people realise it was I who payed them to fight for me, what remains of them will be tossed into the trash alongside the traitors of Rome. Enemies can be useful allies for a time, but they're infinitely disposable."

Stepping outside, he looked up into stars, a final thought on tonight passing his mind. "Six generals uncle? Six? Does it really take that many men to contest me?"



"Fine then, it begins."

[Mount Suribachi]

Oppius stood as high as he could on his horse, the better to see the panorama of the battle unfolding before him. He had positioned himself on the far right flank, barely moving from his position when the ambush was sprung. His Centurions had quickly and efficiently moved their cohorts to face the onrushing enemy, and now he could see that all his infantry were engaged.....and yes, there, just in the distance he could see his Velites moving round the left flank, preparing to launch their javelins into the Carthaginian rear. As he tried to take it all in, formulate plans, one of his officers caught his attention.

"Sir, the Funditores are signalling that they are out of stones."

What? Already? It seemed like only seconds ago he had ordered them to engage the Carthaginian second row, at least 5 or 6 cohorts of Skirmishers. They would have more luck against them than throwing their missiles against the front of the well armoured African Phalanxes.

"Very well, order them to find a gap in the lines - there are plenty of them - and try and attack an enemy cohort from behind" But what am I to do? Now that his entire army was engaged, there were no tactical niceties to be observed, no grand strategic plan to unfold, no subtle ploys with which to deceive the enemy. Now it was a bloody hand to hand struggle between the infantry. Last man standing wins. Oppius knew he had 2 choices. He could ride amongst his men and try and encourage them, or he could use his bodyguard as shock cavalry, try and break the enemy line. He wanted to do the latter but the Carthaginian line of skirmishers was too close to the main battle line. He couldn't flank without being drawn into combat with them - the lesson of what had happened to the Consul Amulius Coruncanius against multiple cohorts of Macedonian skirmishers had been hammered home to them at the Scriptorium...



But then, a stroke of luck! A maniple of Triarrii had beaten back their opponents on the Roman right! Oppius rode down to them quickly and ordered them to advance on the enemy javelin men. Now with space for his Pretoria to manoeuvre, he wheeled round and set up to charge into the rear of the Carthaginian left. Oppius licked his lips, Muttines was engaged in a melee in the centre, this was his chance to roll them up, one unit at a time!

He charged! His men mowed down maybe a dozen or more enemy...........but they held! He reformed his men and they charged again! And again! And again! And still the enemy held! And to make things worse the 2 cohorts he was trying to break re-organised themselves and now their rear ranks faced his cavalry - not enough to present a wall of sharpened points, but enough to slow down and blunt the effects of his charges. Panic began to seep into Oppius's mind, why wouldn't they break??!!?? As his men reformed, a dwindling, exhausted group, horses and riders coated in sweat, blood and dirt, he could see that the Carthaginian weight of numbers was beginning to tell. In the distance he could see a handful of Roman soldiers fleeing! No! His line was thin and beginning to crumble, the battle was slipping away from him, and with every second it slipped further and faster away from him. Fear started to seep into his bones, he had to think, and fast. Suddenly several javelins thudded into the ground around him, another into a horse which reared up and threw its rider, a scream and he turned round to see another rider skewered through the thigh. He whirled around to see hundred of enemy skirmishers bearing down on him, a pile of dead bodies - many Roman - behind them.

"Sir, we must get out of here" one of his 2 remaining companions pleaded. He needed no second reminder, spurring his tired horse away and out of the fray. By now his entire army was in retreat. Now and then an occasional maniple would regain their courage and try and make a stand, but it was futile, they may as well have tried to stop the sea tide. Where he could he urged them to the seek refuge in the woods, but many were caught up and lost.

On the other side of the woods he stopped on top of a low rise to survey the stragglers making their way to safety, and their he spotted his supposed ally, Muttines of Corduba. Like Oppius, Muttines only appeared to have 2 surviving bodyguards. "Maybe I can salvage something out of this yet...."

He charged down the hill, 6 men and 6 horses clashed. But both sides were too tired and too well armoured to make a killing blow on the other. Oppius had hoped his downhill charge would give him the edge, but when it didn't, he knew he had to get out of there. He was no use to anyone dead.

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





As the broken, shattered, exhausted, demoralised, weeping remnants of his legion crawled their way onto the fleet, Oppius collapsed into his cabin. He clapped for a slave. "Water, wine, and a scribe. I have letters to write"