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Chapter Three, Part Two

Chapter 3: Thrace
Part 2: Agendas

Almost immediately following Caesar’s departure to Macedonia, Octavius assumed command of the Roman world. Appealing to the masses and in a flurry of populism, bending to Caesar’s wishes, to which he was morally opposed, opened the ranks of the nobility, and define it in a loose way. Lowering the amount of net wealth necessary to be admitted into the Senate opened up an entirely new political class to try the reigns at power not seen since Sulla. Naturally, Cicero’s Moderates opposed this “populist nonsense” and threatened the integrity of the Republic, but Octavius, in a gesture deemed by all as gallant, proposed that though a new political class was opened, that to run for office a senator must have accrued wealth equal to the old standard. With the Caesarian-Moderate coalition strengthened, Rome watched as Consuls Octavius and Brutus strive to strike a compromise with Rome’s “finest men” instead of playing the rabble-rouser and proposing legislation to the Assembly.

However, as Rome entered a “new era” of politics, trouble brewed in the Orient. Piracy, considered by some as a dead trade since the imperium of Pompey the Great, was on the rise. Ransacking grain shipments out of Egypt troubled the eastern as well as the western provinces of the empire. Even as Gaius Memmius patrolled the seas and combated the ills of the hungry Republic, grain was still disappearing that couldn’t be accounted for. While the Senate was quick to point fingers and blame the opposition for undermining the stability of the state, cooler heads had an inkling to where the grains were going. The culprits were factions against the Great Law in the same place it was affecting – the East, specifically Syria. Her massive wealth combined with civil strife could become a bacterium that Rome could not cure if not controlled early. The only question that remained now was who was doing it, and why.

Noon, March 5th, 710 Ab urbe condita

Rome, Italy

Standing up, Octavius cleared his throat, commanding the attention of the Senate. Brutus retained only a smug look on his face, finding it incredible that a 19 year-old commanded so much respect from his government. All too much he seemed like his uncle. He would have thought that without Ptolemy, that he would be his only son. Clasping his hands together, Octavius stepped forward and called the Senate to order. As the muffled speech ground to a halt, only silence permeated the room. Only then could the effect of his calculating personally take its full stride.

“Gentlemen, before we conclude this session, I would like to announce two pieces of news to you all exclusively before it’s release to the people. I figured it best, so that misinterpretations or questions could be relayed to me directly, instead of being discovered by whispers on street-corners," Octavius relayed, stirring interest within the seated senators.

“First, today, I have received confirmation from a courier bound from Macedonia that Caesar has invaded Thrace with his legions in an effort to secure key defensive positions by Dacian territory due to reactions from Dacian armies. This new conquest will give our armies the high ground against a foe that seemingly wants to pounce at any sign of weakness. Hopefully the fall of Tylis will set the barbarians in their proper place,” Octavius concluded, speaking if he had memorized the note that Caesar had written him. Some senators nodded at the good news, while others seemed to be frightened. One such worried senator, in light of this, stood up to confront the Consuls.

“Reactions from Dacian armies? Does that they are planning to invade Macedonia?” the senator finished, sitting down amidst worried, muffled voices. Octavius, becoming increasingly annoyed, gestured to his lictors to pound their fasces on the ground to bring the room to silence.

“We have no confirmation of that. If that were so, Caesar has enough money, food, and soldiers to deal with a calamity of that degree. Some of our most capable commanders are in Macedonia; I feel that confident that our lands our safe in the meantime,” Brutus shouted over the voices, which gradually reduced to nothing. Nodding heads throughout the crowd signaled agreement. At least the Senate trusted Caesar to defend the state instead of run it. Shifting his train of though, Octavius proceeded to state the last order of business of the day.

“Lastly, we have heard rumors of stirrings by tribes across the sea in Britannia. I am worried that if the Suebi become too powerful, and in the event of full-scale military operations in Germania, that the tribes across the sea will be roused to do harm against our outposts in Gaul. Something that none of us wants. So, with my power vested in my as legal custodian of the Republic, I hereby grant newly raised senators Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa and Gaius Cilnius Maecenas imperium over the province of Belgica to replace the current promagistrates as joint military governors. From there, they will have orders to raise an appropriate amount of legions to subdue Britannia. If we are to eventually fight the Suebi directly, it will be important to do divide and conquer any potential allies they may have,” Octavius spoke fluently and crisply, capturing a majority of the Senate with his charisma, and suggesting that this really was the best action to take. It was logical to presume that it would be better to break down potential enemies before they could break down Rome.

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GaiusMaecenas.jpg


Left - Marcus Agrippa. Right, Gaius Maecenas. Octavius met both his trusted lieutenants during his childhood years, and grew to become close friends in an new emerging political landscape. Octavius trusted them absolutely, and would even place his life, and his fortunes, into their proven hands.

With no word from any of the Senate, Octavius ended the meeting. Standing up with Brutus, the two political titans shook hands, scheduled an evening dinner, and parted ways. As the other senators stood up and moved about, Cicero quickly stood up, and rushed to intercept Octavius before he was lost amongst the hundreds of white robes in the Forum. Tugging at Octavius’ toga, Cicero met the gaze of the Interrex et Consulare as he turned to face him.

“Your Honor,” Cicero said, not accustomed to the honorific, “is it wise to be raising armies like that? With the current grain shortages, allocating grain we need to feed the mob to our legions doesn’t appeal to me as being the correct choice. Perhaps we can have Gallic granaries give up some-“ Cicero attempted grant advice, but was immediately cut off by Octavius, who looked annoyed from the business of the day.

“Cicero, if I was interested in your counsel, then I would have asked for it. I am sure the Roman people can be a little hungry when they go to bed instead of going to bed hoping that the Germans sacking Rome don’t get them in the middle of the night. Leave me be and protest to someone who cares,” Octavius blurted out, waving Cicero away and descending the steps of the Senate House. Dumbfounded, Cicero watched Octavius become enveloped by a mass of white linens. Summoning Tiro to his side, Cicero prompted his property to start taking down a letter. As Cicero walked into the side streets of Rome, Octavius met up with Marcus Agrippa and Gaius Maecenas to speak of their new appointments.

ForumCaesaris.jpg


The Forum Caesaris; an addition to the traditional center of business, the Forum Romanum, to decrease traffic. During this time, it had become to supplement, and nearly replace, the Old Forum and it usual business there. At it's heart was the Temple of Venus Gentrix, a symbol of Caesar himself and his permanent mark on the city of Rome for eternity.​

“Thank you, Gaius, for your generosity. It is an honor for someone of my status to receive and honor such as this. My family will remember this for centuries to come,” Agrippa stated, bowing his head to the Interrex. Octavius accepted the gesture, but was interrupted by Maecenas as he let out an exaggerated chuckle that echoed around the street in which they walked. Both men turned to face them, wondering what was so humorous. Seeing both of them staring, Maecenas’ cheeks turned red from embarrassment.

“My apologies, Gaius. I found something awfully poetic about being an Etruscan and receiving absolute authority over a province of the empire. Who knew the people Romans have loathed for centuries would in fact hold power once again!” Maecenas joked. Agrippa saw the joke and laughed awkwardly, but Octavius showed no vestige of emotion. He supported, but was generally uninterested, in Maecenas’ aptitude for the arts, and found that his habit of searching political events, especially events of importance such as this, for poetic devices was rather annoying and inappropriate.

“Oh,” Octavius said, “well it is important for the both of you to conquer Britannia quickly, or at least supplement your grain with loot from the British countryside. I don’t need the mob rising in revolt while I have control of the City, especially over hunger. That is the most important of your missions; to return as much of the grain that I will allot for this campaign. I trust both of you will fulfill my wishes to an utmost capacity. This is obviously why I have chosen the two of you, my trusted friends, to carry this operation out personally,” Octavius ended, glancing at his seconds with a fake smile. Both of them nodded.

“I hope both of you will accompany me to dinner tonight at the Junii house?” Octavius asked.

“Absolutely,” the new military governors both said at the same time. With a round of handshakes, the three men parted ways to make preparation for the evening part. Once again, political gambles would be taken that would decide the fate of the political stability Rome had achieved. The only question was, who was on either side?

Night, March 10th, 710 Ab urbe condita

Antioch, Syria

It had been a hard night of feasting and drinking at the house of proquaestor Sextus Appaleius, governor of Syria. Many lay drunk and laying in piles of their own excrement. Though, it did not matter. Today was not just any normal day of sin and debauchery. Today was a celebration of a victory. A victory over Rome and her hungry mouths. Today marked the day that Sextus Pompey had captured a total of one-third of Egypt’s first grain harvest coming out of the Nile with his Sicilian marines. After promptly storing the stolen goods into Appaleius’ personal granaries, a party ensued that turned Appaleius from a nervous conspirator into a trusted friend.

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Sextus Pompeius Magnus Pius, Sextus Pompey, the last living son of Pompey the Great. Having continued the civil war far beyond Caesar's declared "victory," Sextus Pompey entrenched himself in Sicily for when Caesar was assassinated. When that did not come to pass as he had hoped, his plans had to change or he would face destruction.

As midnight approached, only Pompey and Appaleius remained standing, only slightly buzzed from the heavy drinking. With full bellies of wine and meat, the two men of distinction decided to talk politics.

“So, Sextus, you never did tell me why you abandoned Sicily as quickly as you did. I mean, you did have an excellent position. A few loyal legions and an expert navy that would put all Roman attempts to stop you to the bottom of the sea!” Appaleius commented, unsure of the quality of his inquiry. He surely did not want to upset his new comrade.

“I figured Caesar would have been dead on the Ides like Longinus promised, but now he is in effective prison. It would have been the perfect defensive spot against any of Caesar’s avengers who wished to ‘punish me’. Since that bastard is alive, I knew I couldn’t fight him alone. So I came here and found my great friend, Sextus Appaleius!” Pompey padded the proquaestor on his back. Appaleius smiled, followed by a cough of acid into his mouth from his annoying condition of reflux. He quickly swallowed it back down with a swig of stronger wine poured by the barmaid.

“So, what now, brother? Surely stealing grain is not enough to break Rome!” Appaleius shouted, but Pompey quickly quieted his friend.

“We need to raise just a few more legions. I have a plan to make us heroes of the Republic, Sextus! I do! It will just involve some distractions, some generalship, and a few heads to roll. After a few confirmations from some key senators, our plan will be ready! Soon, it will be how it once was. A true Republic! Gods, I cannot wait to see that. It has been too long!” Pompey proclaimed to his friend, who immediately looked troubled.

“I do not feel I am being helpful enough,” Appaleius stated, swirling his drink around in his cup. Pompey immediately sprung into action to make his friend feel better.

“Do not fret, Sextus! I just need you to keep acting like a loyal governor of Syria. You are the mask of this whole operation! Your continued ‘loyalty’ to Rome will conceal our motives and the possibility of our involvement in the stealing of grain. If it weren’t for you, none of this would be possible. Remember that, brother! Remember!” Pompey reassured, with Appaleius returning to life and consumed by a mixture of happiness and nervousness. Pompey made his plan seemed so simple. He just hoped it would end as it should end.
 
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And so the plot thickens... war with Thrace, war with Britain, war with Syria... I wonder if poor Cæsar's heart can take the bad news without giving out!

Marvelous writing as usual, Issac.
 
So many troubles, just one Caesar.

Well, a conspiracy is brewing. That makes a good fun for the readers. About having two military commanders... what is Octavius planning? To have Teoteburg but in England?
 
And so the plot thickens... war with Thrace, war with Britain, war with Syria... I wonder if poor Cæsar's heart can take the bad news without giving out!

Marvelous writing as usual, Issac.
Who knows? ;) And thank you once again.
So many troubles, just one Caesar.

Well, a conspiracy is brewing. That makes a good fun for the readers. About having two military commanders... what is Octavius planning? To have Teoteburg but in England?
I am glad someone caught that Octavian is building armies.
Three possible fronts, Rhein-Thracia-Sicilia.
And Parthia might join...
dangers ahead.
Indeed, but can Rome handle it all?
 
Chapter Three, Part Three

Chapter 3: Thrace
Part 3: Maneuvering

Thrace for a very long time has only been a designation by the Greeks for all peoples beyond the Danube River. She saw only three brief intervals of centralization: the Odrysian Kingdom approximately between 250 and 450 ab urbe condita, conquest by Philip II of Macedon in 411 ab urbe condita and the current Dacian Kingdom of Burebista. Before and between these periods, Thrace was a place of disunion. Generally, tribes condensed themselves into villages, preferring not to greatly urbanize. Some of her most notable cities, Tylis and Byzantium, however, displayed what made Thrace so interesting – this was a place of Greeks. Being one of the first geographic regions to adopt Greek culture during the tide of Hellenism, the rump state of Thrace was one of the last of the sovereign Hellenistic kingdoms.

ThracePolitical.png


Thrace was the continental Greek kingdom left after Alexander's conquests. For years, it had sided with Rome. However, when Burebista formed his kingdom by the unification of the Dacii and the Getae, the other prominent Thracian tribes (but were not Greek); Thrace drifted towards the new Balkan hegemony. It would be that decision that would but Thrace and her cultural heritage on a path of destruction.​

With Caesar’s invasion of Thrace, it was obvious to the bystanders that Thracian sovereignty was indeed in jeopardy. Other than creating a continuous border against southern Dacia, it was an attempt to give some field experience to Caesar’s newly raised legions when they would inevitably turn northward and test the mettle of Dacian soldiers. Though the Thracian fishing trade centered at Byzantium would indeed supplement the Roman diet considering recent events, it was a secret military experiment devised by Antony and Caesar to give some worth to their armies; knowing all to well what would happen against a more veteran foe. Generalship only went so far. Regardless, Caesar would not just subjugate the Thracians; he would also improve them. Having built-up Gaul during his campaigns, he would do the same here. Running water, roads, and entertainment complexes were on the highest priority. It is that ambitious mindset that drove Caesar to do what he already done throughout his life.

Afternoon, March 29th, 710 Ab Urbe Condita (43 BCE)

Byzantium, Thrace

Antony, hoisting up his tunic over a chamber pot while Caesar sat nearby munching on stale bread, decided to recount his observations of the village they had recently just marched into.

“I have never seen a sadder place, Caesar. The people here needed us to conquer them before they all withered away in depression! I am surprised this village has lasted as long as it has! In my honest opinion, I don’t see this seaside resort amounting to anything in the near or distant future,” Antony recounting, lowering his tunic and straightening himself out. Caesar, looking at Antony with a gaze of disgust, threw his bread on the ground and folded his hands in his lap as he reclined into his chair.

“Did you have to do that in here, Marcus? I don’t need my tent to smell like fish and piss,” Caesar lamented sarcastically. Antony only scoffed such an attempt at humor.

“Got to make leather somehow, eh?” Antony joked. Letting out a chuckle, Caesar stood up, and walked over to the nearby to a map in which his scouts drew for him. On the table were several models, painted wooden objects representing Caesar and Rufus’ legions, while other models marked the Thracian army and Tylis – the largest village in the and the only pocket of Thracian resistance left. Joining him at the table, Antony hovered over the table to see what Caesar had to say.

“Don’t be so hard on this city, Antony. Byzantium pulls in a lot of fish. Fish that Rome could use right now if the reports out of Egypt are true,” Caesar commented, “Byzantium is at least worth that.”

“So it is no lie about the stolen grain?” Antony questioned, looking troubled.

“It is true,” Caesar supported with his several week old information, “so that is one the primary reasons we are here,” Caesar finished, followed by a smug grin from Antony, “However, on to business,” Caesar changed the subject.

Legatii Caesar, Antony, and Rufus crossed the border of Thrace around February 15th and began the process of subjugation of the local tribes. To each village they encountered, they offered two options, either submit peacefully to Rome or be slaughtered. Thankfully, many tribes choose to save the sons of Thrace and accept the former. Sorrowfully, other tribes did not, and suffered destruction by Rome’s iron blades. Upon the beginning of March, Caesar encountered the first Thracian army. The legionarii did not even have to advance before the Thracians fled the battlefield. Suspecting that he was being distracted, Caesar let the army route and marched to the Bosphorous to capture Byzantium. As scouts rolled in from the north to account for Thracian movements, Caesar remained encamped in Byzantium.

“We need to corner and destroy the Thracians. Not because they are strong, but because they are bothersome. I feel they are dragging us out into formation just to stall of time. Though I am not sure would they possibly throw at us, we might as well be rid of them now,” Caesar explained. Antony nodded.

“Divide and conquer?” Antony inquired.

“Precisely,” Caesar assured him, “You shall take a detachment from Rufus’ legion to divert a main force of Thracians against you. Then I will attack the lesser force and envelop them. While the Thracians pursue you, I will attack from behind and eliminate the rest. This will probably take place near the city of Tylis, as long as the scouts are correct on the placement of their army,” Caesar spoke his thoughts, unveiling his plot for victory. Antony nodded again.

“What of Rufus himself?” Antony asked, wondering what the fate of the inept commander would be

“He will guard the camp,” Caesar stated sly. Antony only grinned, “once we trounce the Thracians will build up our new territory until September and rest the legions through the winter.”

“Sounds tantalizing,” Antony said in jest, cracking a smile. He was ready to crack open some uncivilized skulls. It had been too long since Gaul.

Night, March 30th, Ab Urbe Condita (43 BCE)

Rome, Italy

Cicero, unable to sleep, paced around his bedroom trying to sort out the recent political development that Tiro just informed him of. With the flapping of his leathery sandals, Cicero’s wife, Claudia Pulchera Minor, was roused from her deep sleep. Rubbing the sand out of her eyes, she sat up in bed and stared blankly at her husband, wondering what on earth could he be doing at such an hour. Cicero, continuing the pace, took no notice of his wife. Too many events and possible outcomes swirled about his conscious to care about such things at the moment.

ClaudiaPulcheraMinor.jpg


Claudia Pulchera Minor, niece of Publius Clodius Pulcher and the last remaining descendant of that line. Having married Cicero and gave him a daughter, Tullia Cicerina Minor, she had aligned herself with the Moderates and one of the most powerful men in Rome.​

Claudia, smiling at Cicero’s determination, decided to break his train of thought. “Marcus, what on earth are you doing at this late hour of the night? I hope everything is alright,” she said softly, trying to calm her consumed husband.

“My dear Claudia,” Cicero said, trying to focus, “it appears that Pompey’s remaining son is just as determined as his old man,” Cicero finished, walking around still but not nearly as fast as he was before.

Being from a politically questionable family, Claudia knew all too well on what it was like to maneuver through Rome’s complicated political arena. It was important to make informed decisions based on information not just in Rome by around the empire. Being the niece of the man that exiled Cicero years before, politics was in her blood. It was what made her a perfect counter-part to the aging orator. She was someone to talk to when other politicians around you could not be trusted. Claudia was the epitome of the Roman matron that valued politics as her husband did, but was not allowed to participate, yet was equally as strong in the arena as her partner.

“Did Sextus raise some legions in Sicily? Italy is not being invaded, is it?” Claudia said, poking Cicero’s brain for answers. Cicero shook his head.

“Far worse my dear, he is going to put a chokehold on the City. Kill us off slowly,” Cicero lamented, his mind clouded by uncertainty.

“So, Syria then?” Claudia deduced. Cicero nodded this time.

“Yes, Syria. My agents say he is going to starve us out and create more chaos. If Octavian gets ousted from Rome by a hungry mob, Caesar will just return and crush the mob, but that will be ill with the people, in which he in turn he will be dealt. Dacia will invade Macedonia and Sextus will just coast into the City, and only the Gods know what he will do if he gets to ride in on a golden chariot! All of this is exactly counter-productive to what I have planned! I want to capitalize on this stability while that bastard Pompey wants the opposite. I am unsure of what to do, Claudia,” Cicero for the first time was truly frustrated. He had to choose his path carefully or he would be sent to chopping block by Caesar’s regime.

Claudia, starting to wake up, began to think of some way to help her husband. “What if you took a different route? What if you appealed to the people directly?” Claudia suggested, but only received a dirty look from Cicero.

“Populism? I will not partake in that garbage,” Cicero steadfastly shot down her idea. Rolling her eyes, Claudia decided to explain further.

“That wasn’t what I meant. Instead of taking your current route, you could change it slightly, and use the senatorial process to control Octavian instead of doing anything covertly. Octavian would be forced into some kind of action, the people would appreciate you, and you would be positioning yourself as a strong voice amongst the Coalition,” Claudia suggested. Cicero’s eyes opened up with excitement.

“And it would merit the same results while being lawful!” Cicero rejoiced, afraid that his old course of actions would have found him dead, “it seems you have bested Rome’s greatest orator,” Cicero joked, taking a seat next to his wife. Giving her a kiss, he laid down on the bed, “I knew there was a reason that I married you.”

“Don’t lie to me. You just wanted revenge,” Claudia laughed, speaking of her origins. Cicero also joined in the laughter. As the noise permeated the walls of the house, several dogs were stirred and barked, disturbing the neighbors and their deep slumber. Maybe he had a chance after all.
 
And Caesar wasting time chasing some ghosts in a corner of the world...
 
As the noise permeated the walls of the house, several dogs were stirred and barked, disturbing the neighbors and their deep slumber. Maybe he had a chance after all.

This phrase is a testament to your writing skills. What it does is that it places the conversation between two characters not just inside a set scenario, but shows that the outside world is still very much effected by the talks of two characters. It is brilliant.
 
This phrase is a testament to your writing skills. What it does is that it places the conversation between two characters not just inside a set scenario, but shows that the outside world is still very much effected by the talks of two characters. It is brilliant.
Thank you! That really means a lot to me! It is very important, I think, to make the characters plausible and real.
 
Caesar is doing what he can. Like the capture of the Byzantine fish trade.

Indeed, but the enemies armies are quite elusive, methinks.
 
Chapter Three, Part Four

I apologize for the late update. I got into a car accident two days ago which put the update just a tad behind. I hope you guys enjoy.

--*--​

Chapter 3: Thrace
Part 4: Sand and Blood

There had never been a time before the Roman Empire in which any government faced so much internal strife. Where senators would pick up their pens and smear the reputation of their opponents. In any other time, the point of a sword or the tip of a spear would answer such things. That was what made Rome so unique, and also so civilized. Where enemies could attack each other with words instead of stones. Aside from the staggered civil wars, it was this same infighting that stabilized the state, as Rome would be held up by the ambition of politicians. The debauchery that made Rome so infamous was really what made it endure even the most horrible of misfortunes.

Afternoon, April 16th, 710 Ab Urbe Condita (43 BCE)

Outside of Tylis, Thrace

The Battle of Tylis has been horribly bloody. At least for the Thracians.

Caesar sat atop his horse, surveying the carnage in which he created. Hearing a noise, he looked up to spot carrion birds flying in a circular formation, waiting to pick at the dead and dying. Closing his eyes to speak with the Gods, Caesar prayed for the defeated to journey peacefully into the afterlife, much unlike how they were dispatched to it. As the moans and groans of death permeated the countryside, Caesar let out a heavy sigh. He questioned if the carnage was worth all of this.

Caesar’s master plan to destroy the entirety of the Thracian army at Tylis proved to be a master success. He had just never expected so much blood to be split. He thought they would have eventually given up and submit to his signet ring. Six thousand Thracians, the estimation of the entire army, had died, as well as several hundred of the last-ditch garrison to defend Tylis. As Caesar’s blue eyes looked over the horizon, he knew that Thrace was no more. Regardless that it took the extermination of an entire generation of young males.

They had successfully enveloped the Thracian army. As Antony led one thousand men chased by several thousand of the enemy, Caesar confronted a force of much smaller proportion. Chasing them down, preferring capture to killing, Caesar linked up with Antony and surrounded the Thracians outside of Tylis’ palisade walls. Massacring every Thracian, the urban garrison’s morale only increased, refusing to surrender to such a brutal enemy. So as a consequence for their refusal of Caesar’s surrender, the Romans forcefully battered their way into the city, easily crushing the garrison and taking the city. As final payment for their stubbornness, Caesar let loose his legion to loot and pillage the city as a “payment bonus” for enduring the hard fighting.

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During the course of the Battle of Tylis, Antony led a devastating cavalry charge into the rear of the Thracian army, end the lives of hundreds of Thracians and any remaining hope for a victory. Roman cavalry during this time was not of much importance, retaining only a supportive role in guarding the flanks. It was this display of it's effectiveness that would prove to Roman generals that cavalry was indeed useful and was very effective on the battlefield.​

As Caesar drifted between prayer and reality, Rufus, also atop his horse, rode up next to Caesar. A whinny from the beast startled Caesar from his trance, and caused him to look around to see where the noise came from. Noting who was now beside him, he turned his head and rolled his eyes. Rufus, not noticing, surveyed the devastation with a smile.

“Rome shall be pleased with such a victory, Your Honor,” Rufus remarked, but Caesar scoffed at such a notion.

“Indeed, but a many have died just to secure a border with Dacia. The movements of our armies are well placed, just unjust,” Caesar commented. Rufus only turned his head in shock.

“Unjust? Your Honor, I believe you are getting soft. I am sure Alexander said no such things as he trampled Persia,” Rufus exclaimed. Caesar only snickered in response.

“I feel pity for the dead. I feel no pity for the politics of it. Even great conquerors like Alexander need to feel sorrow for the lives he just dispatched. I just ended an entire generation of young men. Something that Thrace will never forget. I believe I have a right to feel pity,” Caesar justified. Rufus shrugged in agreement.

Breaking off from the conversation, Rufus trotted over to a group of military tribunes accounting for losses. Summoning a courier, he handed a message marked with wax imprinted with Caesar’s signet ring.

“Take that to Rome. Tell them what has happened,” Rufus ordered. Saluting, the courier ran for his steed, and scurried off into the sunset.

Morning, April 17th, 710 Ab Urbe Condita (43 BCE)

Rome, Italy

The Senate House, after much patience, finally became silent. Cicero had taken center stage, ready to speak. The eyes of the Senate were upon him, including Consulare Brutus. Much to Cicero’s dismay, Octavian was not present. Facing a bout of illness per his usual sickliness, he was force to remain home in his bed. Brutus, having no idea what Cicero could be speaking about today, sat up straight in his consular chair and awaited Cicero’s oratory.

CicerosSpeech.gif


Cicero beginning his famous 'Grain Speech' to the Senate.​

“Conscript Fathers,” Cicero started, his rehearsed speech coming to him. All he had banked on came down to this. He made sure he addressed everyone in hopes of capturing the entirety of the Senate’s attention. He would successfully do so.

“Today, the first catches of fish have arrived in Ostia today from Byzantium. No doubt to the happiness of the plebs, but still not an answer to the pirate enclaves in the Levant. Frankly, I believe it is unacceptable that we, the Romans, have to even deal with a calamity such as this in Our Sea! We have not seen such catastrophe in the past one hundred years! Where people have to go to bed hungry. That is a failure that only rests on our shoulders.”

“However, there is hope. Civilization has a way of presenting problems in which changes the fabric of our society. Sometimes drastic measures must be taken in order to alleviate drastic problems. This is such a time. To be irregularly brief, I motion to open the emergency reserve granaries directly to the people, purchase grain from Asia, and remove Gaius Memmius from command. For it is his ineptitude that has delivered us this debacle to begin with,” Cicero finished, quickly sitting down and taking a deep breath.

As the murmur of hushed voices quickly filled the room, many Moderates looked to Cicero, and wondered what this was about, and then looked at Brutus to see if he would veto it. Brutus conveyed no signs of doing so. Going against the motion meant you supported and unfed populace. Going with the motion meant that you were supporting quasi-populist actions. Either decision was inherently bad. Further, even the idea that Cicero was leaning in that political direction was absurd, for he has always staunchly opposed such methods. Knowing he hadn’t changed overnight, many wondered what he was really up to.

Brutus, noticing that no one was speaking out against the motion, stood up to address the Senate, “Since no one speaks against the motion, I declare that it has passed unanimously. The reserve granaries will be opened immediately in order to accommodate the people’s position. One unit of grain per household at the discretion of the quaestores,” Brutus said, rendering his decision. The Senate sat in awe, as it was not often that Rome gave alms to the suffering.

Seeing his motion pass, Cicero relaxed himself as the built up stress from the past weeks was removed from his shoulders. Once again, he was in the political arena, fighting Rome’s ills as he did in his younger years. Taking a breath of fresh air, and tasting the stench of worried old men, he was at peace. Cicero would a name that no one would forget.