Sanctimonia - Part II

Marcus shook free of his grasp. “Amulius! What is this about? What have you heard?”

Amulius quickly surveyed the deserted alleyway. “I think I may have an explanation for our friend Lucius’ behavior this morning.” The tone of Amulius’ voice told Marcus that this explanation could not be pleasant.

“Tell me.”

“After the mob was cleared, I lingered a while near the forum, still wondering over what had happened, hoping to find some clue as to why. It appears the gods heard me, Marcus, for I had not been there long before I saw Servetius, one of Lucius’ senators, hurrying towards a man who was skulking in the shadow of an alley like this one. I followed him stealthily, and blessed Mercury must have lent silence to my feet for I was not detected. When I was closer, I recognized the other man. And who do you think it was? It was one of those ruffians that charged out of the crowd and started the whole riot! And what do you Servetius was doing? He was paying him! Paying him!”

“That a Roman consul should resort to such bloody tricks to silence his rivals!” Marcus fumed. “Inciting a mob to strike them down! It is the height of dishonor, and I will make sure this is known by the entire city!”

“But Marcus, it is more than that. Servetius then said the man, ‘And you will get rest when the job is finished, for come tomorrow the great Lucius will be lord of this city, and in a more fit position to reward those who served him best.’ Then the man bowed and left, and so did I! I have come to find you, all the time fearing I was seen listening to Servetius. Marcus don’t you see what this means? Lucius will march on Rome!”

Marcus caught his breath as the full impact of Amulius’ words hit him. It could not be so. “March on Rome?” he asked in stunned disbelief. “No, Amulius. Surely the Senate will-“

“The Senate is his!” cried Amulius. “Steadily bought and paid for these past months. His last real opposition was removed today!”

“But the people-“

“Will be crushed by Lucius’ army. What chance do they have? His legions are encamped just outside the city, Marcus. He will march them through the gates tomorrow and then all hope will be lost. Rome will be conquered by her own son.” Amulius was silent and turned away, as though his own words had defeated any hope within him.

Marcus was silent as well, but his mind was a whirl of thought. Rome could not be conquered! No, Rome was the greatest of nations, the shining light to the rest of the world! If the Roman republic should die and in its place a dictator be raised, what champion would freedom have? No, Marcus would not allow the death of liberty while strength remained in his limbs to prevent it.

“Something must be done, Amulius.”

Amulius turned to him, a lost look on his face. “But what, Marcus? What can be done? We have no Senate, we have no legions, we do not even have our own guards! The balance seems stacked against us my friend, and the only way we could-“ Amulius stopped short, looking through Marcus as a thought was born in his mind.

“What, Amulius? Do you have an idea? Speak, man!”

Amulius looked at Marcus’ face, and then said very slowly, “If the legions have no leader, there will be none to lead the legions.”

Marcus blinked, not comprehending. “Amulius, this is no time for childish riddles! Do you have a plan or don’t you?”

Amulius’ voice was hard now. “Marcus, it will be very difficult for Lucius to march on Rome if he is dead.”

Silence fell between the two as that last word hung in the air. “Dead.” Murder! Marcus recoiled from the very thought. That Rome should be saved in such a fashion! “Amulius! Hear what you are saying! This would make us no better than Lucius himself! No better than common thugs and hired knives. No, there must be some other way.”

“No, Marcus, there is not.”

“I will not kill a Roman consul in cold blood, Amulius, and I won’t let you do it either.”

“But think, Marcus!” Amulius grabbed Marcus by the shoulders, his fingers digging into his skin. “Think how many will die if Lucius does not! Think of your wife, your children! Think of Rome! Will you let Rome die?”

Marcus shivered at hearing his own thoughts thrown back at him. It did not make him think any kindlier of the idea, and yet…and yet were there not things precious enough to protect by any means? Things in whose defense even murder would be justified?

“But the people will hate us as murderers.”

“No! They will hail us as saviors!”

Marcus Maxentius, Savior of Rome. It did have a nice sound. It was an honorable title, to be sure, one that would last down through the ages, and perhaps inspire other men to serve their country with honor. But was it worth it? Was saving a thousand lives worth ending one? Was saving freedom worth the spilling of blood? Will you let Rome die?

"Amulius, do you own a sword?"