image [https://i.ibb.co/6JDPVZW/eagle.png]

Cladius felt as if the whole world hung over his shoulders. He felt disgust and could barely look at the imperial eagle that stood at the back of the amphitheatre, guarded by three soldiers that stood like puny ants beneath its majesty, yet armed with bows, quivers, and short swords. Cladius had his hands clasped together, supported on his elbows, and his eyes were fixed on the empty space before him. His colleagues, the senators, discussed trivial matters, and Larius, the governor of Tharcia, walked down from the grand stairs. He reached the center of the amphitheatre. He cleared his throat, and it echoed throughout.

“Hail to thee, forgers of a great Empire. And hail our mighty Eagle of Jupiter,” he solemnly said.

“Hail!” The senators responded in chorus and saluted with their hands on high.

“Now, we come to you with news of a project,” he said boldly. “A project gruesome and painful to us, fellow representatives of this great Senate, Empire, and People. But as grim as the matter at hand is, it has also been resolved.”

Cladius’s eyelids were twitching. He sunk his head between his hands. Yes, he had made disparaging comments about Gadalians. He had made them while drunk, in the presence of Larius. Could that have made him the recipient of that knowledge? Had he proven himself trustworthy in any way to such a coward and a killer? Or was it because of his intent on becoming Consul? Was that the reason?

Larius went on with his tale.

“A few days ago, our loyal spies discovered a great conspiracy in the core of the Gadalian villages of Gathia, Adachia, and others. Many of these barbarians were found to be followers of vast and warlike superstitions, which they refer to as the Mysteries of Ares. In this dangerous sect, men are initiated into wanting blood and swearing to become kings; willing to enslave any other group as they go about killing hundreds and eating raw meat, drinking blood, and destroying every other Empire under the wheel of their chariots. Crushing civilization itself, agriculture, and peace under the hooves of their horses in exchange for gold and material wealth.”

The senators looked attentively, as Larius wandered through the place, his toga and bracelets shining under fiery torches on the wall. His shadow grew like a giant.

“Among their prophecies is that when a purported Sword of Ares is found, all their oppressors will be crushed. By oppressors, they mean us. The Sacred Itruschian Empire.”

A man stood in the crowd.

“Any objection, Senator Hunas?” Larius asked.

The objector was wearing a long robe and a coat that could not hide the muscles of his frame. He was taller than most men in the group, and in his green eyes shone a fiery will.

“This is not true... None of my people have sworn...” The man’s voice from the stairs was weak compared to the amplified echo when Larius spoke.

“Your people, Hunas Iulius Gadalicus? Explain to us what that means...”

“Senator Larius, I am from the high caste of Itruschia, but among my ancestors are renowned Gadalian warriors. I still have a connection to such a people group, and what you say is not true.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Is it not true that the Sword of Ares refers to the elimination of an oppressive enemy.”

“Sire, it is a legend, like out of Elysian myths. Besides, that legend talks about giants. Giants, sir, not men nor beasts, but creatures from long ago. Myths, good sire.”

“Don't you mean we are not giants? And that, my fellow noblemen, is the meaning this superstitious group has found in our glorious Empire! We, the greatest Empire in the world became the giants they fear.”

“Sire, that interpretation is...”

“Now let me continue. As I was saying, this dangerous cult extended to most men, as delivered by some of their priests, in secret. Thus, we uncovered a vast conspiracy that threatened to attack our city during next year’s Juvenalia celebrations.”

The crowd murmured.

A senator raised his hand.

“I am Yurius Meridus, resident of Tharcia; and my son, under your own sponsorship, is an apprentice at the workshop of Alan of Vharzia. My son was prohibited to attend this week, the reason was not given; but sire, the people I have known are honourable and loyal to the Empire. No word of discontent has come out of his instructor’s mouth. This Alan even instructs my child instead of his own daughter, who as my son has said, wishes she could study instead.”

“Yes,” Larius said. “We ordered the Tharcian office to stop your son from traveling because of the operation. And coming back to them. That is how deceitful they are. As we found about their preparations, our team in the province came to the most disturbing conclusion. Their plans were too dangerous and cunning, just as masterful as their metalwork. We made the most difficult decision. We decided to ambush them and eliminate them. We targeted all the men who were found to have ties to the pernicious sect, and we eliminated each and every one of them. And for your son, a more suitable instructor has already been found.”

The murmuring began once again.

So he had done it. In all three villages.

“The women, most of them at least, were spared,” Larius continued. “Such an unfortunate situation, is it not? In order to not cause further suffering to these women and children, we decided to provide them with opportunities. Families of soldiers from the province will now have the capability of taking them as wives.”

“As wives?” asked one of the senators.

“Yes, whenever possible, if not, some of them will be legally adopted as slaves but treated right. Understand that we have to take care of these people. Unfortunately, many of them have been lost to ensure stability.”

“You murderer!” Hunas jumped from the crowd and ran down the stairs; the senators around him watched him like a madman sprawling onto the floor. “How... how could you?”

Larius remained still.

“I assure you it was in the best interest of this Empire and its peace and prosperity,” he said calmly. “It is a costly matter, but it will save us from a great deal of suffering. Imagine the damage they could do to a city? I do not want Itruschia to be sacked again. Not again! I lost my eye to those very same barbarians.”

“You... Our people made a deal with you.” Hunas was already in the amphitheatre, walking toward Larius, his shadow a massive spectre of blackness covering the room.

“You calm down, Hunas...”

Old senators rushed to the stage, grabbing Hunas by the arms and pulling him back. From Cladius’ angle, it looked as if he were watching a classical tragedy.

“Liar! Killer! None of that is true,” Hunas twisted his head and cursed.

“Now you, Hunas...” Larius pointed at him. “Why are you opposing me!”

“You... you killed my people!” Hunas screamed, and his amplified voice rang through their ears.

“I am preserving this Empire,” Larius remained his calm. “I am protecting...”

Cladius observed in shock. He bit the nail of his thumb. Things were getting ugly.

Hunas kicked one of the old men who were grabbing him. He let go. Then, the half-breed stuck his hand under his coat and unsheathed a short bronze sword. The old senators stepped back, alarmed, one of them with blood dripping down his arm from when he unsheathed.

Hunas rushed toward Larius with the sword in hand.

And yet, Larius remained calm.

“Traitor!” Hunas said, and arrows from the guards above the amphitheatre shot him before he could make a move. Cladius breathed deeply so as not to faint. Five or six arrows pierced through Hunas’ back, one in his leg, and he collapsed to his knees, his face up, teeth clenched. He dropped the sword, which echoed across the room, as he slowly drifted into the world of the dead.