It was Hurek at the door!

But he also had someone else with him. A woman who exuded confidence. No, she was power. She seemed taller than Hurek despite being almost half his size. She cocked her head, her black hair jingling with beads and large, hoop earrings.

By Jupiter, those ears…

She had the largest ears I'd ever seen. Or was the gold jewelry just that heavy? Her ear tips were adorned with tiny jewels, and those sun-kissed earlobes hung low under the weight of the fine gold. The hoops brushed against the beads in her dark, braided hair. Her lips were as red as the ruby atop her tiara.

But going back to the ears, they really were long. Just by themselves? Perhaps if she exchanged the large earrings for something lighter, they might not be so stretched. The hoops almost touched her shoulders, and the sparkling choker she wore had these golden chains that dangled past her collar bones.

But going back to the ears, they really were long on their own. Weren’t they? They had to be. She must’ve been wearing heavy jewelry from a young age. If I had to guess, maybe twelve or thirteen. That would make it half her life since she looked to be close to thirty years of age. Was she the governor’s wife? A concubine? She had the features of a local Amorite but the demeanor of a Roman patrician.

But going back to the ears, though…

"Master Cicero?" she asked with the perfect balance of curiosity and hesitance. But there was also authority, as she continued, "I must speak with you".

Her eyes betrayed what her innocent smile tried to hide. A cruel intensity, focused in on me, a cat looking at a mouse while also trying to appear still and calm and unthreatening.

"I'm all ears!" I blurted without thinking. "I mean... not that, you have..."

Hurek glared at me, and the slight shake of his head in warning confirmed his fear as well. Who was she that had the big man himself so scared?

"And you are?" I asked, trying to flip the confrontation around.

The woman wasn't fazed. "Atia," she said simply, then beckoned for me to follow. Hurek turned on his heel after her, which left me holding my door like a fool. Quickly, I gathered my pen and paper and rushed after them.

We shortly broke into a balcony that hung over a wild landscape of dark green foliage and many canals and fountains. It seemed we were still inside the palace compound, but the twists and turns had led to an internal courtyard zoo of sorts. Many monkeys hung from nearby branches and sat picking lice from each other's backs. One of them was... dear Mars on Mars...

"Is that a man?" I cried, pointing to a human who sat amongst the primates, naked, picking lice and fidgeting awkwardly as if he was a monkey himself.

"Juno, yes," Atia said somberly, "he was our previous biographer."

A chill settled in my bones despite the hot sun beating down through the rafters in the roof. "What... happened to him?" I asked carefully, tearing my eyes away from the horrid sight and back to Atia.

She leaned against the balcony, her silky black hair falling around her shoulders. then shrugged, "it was a mistake. My mistake."

"A m-mistake?" I stammered. The wild biographer began to shriek as one of his monkey brethren tried to steal the pile of berries he'd gathered and was sitting on. As he chased away the thief, I saw he had several berries clamped tight in his rear. And they fell as he relaxed, settling back down on his fruity throne.

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"You see," Atia began, an amused smile playing on her lips, "I thought it would be funny to punish him for his... transgressions... by throwing him in my monkey jungle for the day. It was supposed to be a joke, but we were all called to Constantinople that very same day and we forgot him down there!"

She let out a colorful chuckle, then shook her head like she was recalling a silly but fond memory. "The poor man was trapped for a full year, fending for himself and living amongst these animals." I didn’t dare question her, no matter how little sense this all made. Wouldn’t the servants have noticed an adult man prancing around with the monkeys?

Resting her chin on her hands, staring down at the morbid sight, misty eyed, she continued, "He used to love poetry, and it still calms him whenever he gets a little too rabid. I read it to him from up here and he goes silent immediately. To be honest, I think a part of him is still in there, somewhere."

I was speechless, rooted to the spot with a fear I'd never truly felt in my life. Helplessness, dread, the image of the anus berries popping up in my mind again and again...

"Hurek," Atia said to the gladiator I'd forgotten was still here, standing in the corner, eyes averted from the disgusting sight below. "Can you give us a minute? I'd like to speak with Master Cicero alone."

I screamed in my head for Hurek to stay, but the gladiator nodded. He gave me a quick glance, filled with sympathy, and turned to walk through the curtains into the hall.

"I'll start from the beginning, Master Cicero," Atia said, immediately taking on an air of business and seriousness, shoulders back and chin held ever so majestically so that she could stare down her nose at me. "I am Atia, wife of Gaius Julius, the King of Palmyra and your new patron."

"A pleasure," I replied with a dry mouth, fighting the urge to lick my chapped lips. She was not Roman at all, despite her stature in a Roman city-state. No self-respecting patrician would ever utter the word “King” or associate themselves with that title. Something wicked was underway in Palmyra for her to declare herself a monarch so easily. Was she simply a bored socialite that enjoyed playing Queen when her husband was away? Although, she clearly had the power to hold a man hostage in a monkey play pen with little to no consequences.

"I understand that you like asking questions." Atia tilted her head thoughtfully, "Juno here did as well..."

"I see."

"But what we need more than questions," Atia said, "is loyalty and vision."

"Of course."

"Julius and I have arranged for something special this spring... possibly the greatest tournament in history. Nero himself will be in attendance."

It took a moment for the name to mean something to me. Was she talking about Emperor Nero? From Rome?

"Yes," she said, guessing my thoughts. "Emperor Nero himself will be attending, as will many lords and kings and patrons across the empire, from Susa to Sardis to Rome!"

It all seemed very far fetched, but I dared not ask a question... "That's wonderful... that's great... that's—"

"Isn't it?" Atia replied, clapping her hands together, "and we want you to be the biographer who records it all. Every fight, every triumph, every death..."

"You mean..."

"Yes, Master Cicero, this is your chance to write something of value. Something humanity will read and look back on for generations to come. The greatest historical record of the battle featuring the best champions across nations!"

I had to admit. Beyond the fear—and the disgust towards her proclivities—there was a tiny part of me that listened to her every word with anticipation. If champions from across the Empire did show up for this tournament, and if Emperor Nero himself took part, then my name would be read along with the greatest Roman and Greek and Arab historians for centuries.

Finally, something worthy to write about.

"There is one more thing, and this is the most important part." Atia stepped closer, and my nose filled with her rose perfume and sweet, minty breath. "You must make sure Hurek reaches the final bout. Only Hurek and no one else."

"I need to coach him?"

"Do whatever it takes to make him reach the final bout," Atia whispered, her eyes like daggers, "and then, when he faces Emperor Nero, he must lose."

"The Emperor wants to fight?" So many questions… with answers I wasn’t actually sure I wanted to hear.

"Hurek must die at Nero's hands," she said. "That is the one thing we have promised Suetonius above all else. That in the end, the Emperor will be champion in front of all the nations in the world."

So the historian Suetonius had arranged this? I’d heard the old fart had the young Emperor’s ear, but to arrange such a spectacle at the foot of the Persian realm! Slowly, all hopes for a quiet summer faded away under Atia’s hungry stare. I’d been lured across the world, only to write praises for just another power-hungry patrician. And to set up the sacrifice of poor Hurek.

There was a shriek and I looked down to find Juno stealing his monkey rival's berries and running away on all fours, laughing maniacally.