The carriage rattled and shook as it drove across the uneven cobblestone. Aurelian stared into the distance, fields of yellow contrasting against the blue sky. His head lay lazily atop his hand as he hunched over nursing a half-empty cup of wine. His mind could not take in the beauty of the country, his mind at war with itself.
His conquests over Acta were all but certain, leading his legions to victory after victory. Sweeping over the squabbling petty kingdoms and city-states like a landslide, carrying their people and leaders back to Urr as trophies and slaves.
He remembered the letters of praise from his tyrant of a father and the pride he felt as his house grew in power. His father had never been closer to obtaining his goal dream.
It wasn’t enough. It is never enough. He would have returned to Acta as not just a conqueror, but a true prince. Had it not been for the formation of the Actan League. Nectanbo, king of Acta unifying the fractured region into a single realm, dedicated to resisting Urr.
After that, all progress had ceased. Like a great wall had been erected around the core of the region. Every day they were pushed further and further back to the coast. They had been on the march, preparing to besiege the city of Epsis when they were ambushed. As if apparating out of thin air, they were surrounded by Nectanbo’s armies. Out of the eighty-thousand men under his command, only ten thousand escaped. His defeat was known in all corners of Urr. His dreams of conquest were forever shattered, never again would he be granted command.
He could still see the attack in his mind, the arrows sprouting from his bodyguards. The screams of his men as they encircled and butchered. His iron-willed army, veterans of a hundred battles ran immediately. Aurelian barely managed to rally his men to escape, narrowly avoiding death at least a dozen times. Marius, you should have let me die. He thought. If Aurelian had died, he could have been a martyr, he would have died in battle like a true Urran instead of turning tail and running.
His return to Urr was met with ridicule and scorn. The people blamed him for killing their brothers and fathers; the elite raged in the senate, his defeat had cost Urr greatly, the most of which was the massive loss of his troops. Around twenty percent of Urr’s fighting force was lost that day.
If it wasn’t for Father, I would have been tried and executed for my failure. He thought. The political landscape of Urr had changed overnight. The power his father had gained from Aurelian's victories fell apart, barely able to maintain their status. He was only spared because the courts were still stacked by his father's minions.
He shook his head. What’s done is done, all that matters is the future. He was heading to a rural villa estate owned by his father, officially he was being sent to increase production, but in reality, he was being exiled. His father was clear that he was no longer wanted in Urr, he had barely been able to say his farewells to his sister Aurelia when he was evicted from the city. Left to suffer the anger of their father alone.
A horse rode up alongside his carriage window, ridden by his bodyguard, friend, and lover. Marius removed his helmet and tucked it to his side as he rode alongside Aurelian. His hair was tied in an auburn knot. The sight of his face brought back memories of the day of defeat. The painted warrior charged towards him. Pulled him from his horse and pinned him to the ground, his dagger inches away from his throat. Before a crimson blade emerged from his attacker's mouth as Marius stood atop them.
“Imperator, we are nearing the villa.” Marius said. “To think that your father sent you to this wretched place. I’ve seen nicer slums.”
“We have slept in worse places, at least this time we won’t have to worry about savages attacking in the night. And stop calling me Imperator, I have no right to that title.”
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“You will always be my imperator Aurelian.” Marius’ horse whinnied as he kept pace with the carriage. “Your future did not die at Acta; you are destined for greatness.”
“The senate calls for my head, the common folk blame me for the death of their brothers and fathers. I have been all but exiled to spend my days hiding my face in this backwater, and my father plans to adopt Titus as his heir. What future is there for me, besides dying a forgotten hermit in this shithole.” That's what you deserve, failure.
Marius was quiet for a moment, only the sound of horse's hooves and the wheels of the carriage. “If that is your fate, then I will be there by your side. But I don’t believe you should give up so quickly. And I will never stop fighting for your honour.”
They spent the rest of the journey in silence until the sound of a bell was heard throughout the valley. Horse clopped against the cobble of the courtyard, their small caravan surrounded by dozens of dirty beaten slaves kneeling on the ground. This is your life now Aurelian.
He threw the wine back as he drained the cup, tossing it to the floor of the carriage as he heard a commotion outside. He looked to Marius leaping from his horse as he prepared to discipline a duo of slaves who weren’t showing the proper respect. Drawing his sword preparing to set an example. I just want to go to bed, not deal with this nonsense.
Leaving the carriage, remembering his status and the aura expected of him. “Marius, hold your blade. We have urgent business to attend to.”
“This slave has disrespected you, imperator. Allow me to preserve your honour.”
Aurelian groaned internally, I don’t care about some fucking slave, I need another drink. “Your defiance is a greater insult to my ‘honour’ than two crippled slaves. Sheathe your sword Marius and join me.”
Seeing the issue resolved, Aurelian walked briskly to the villa entrance. Ignoring the gathered slaves, particularly Niko who had dressed in his finest to make a good impression. They smell terrible.
He heard the hiss of Marius’ blade returning to its scabbard and his metal greaves clanging against the stone as he rushed to his side. “Aurelian, why did you stop me? It was just a slave; you need to show your dominance.”
This place is filthy, just as Father planned of course. Aurelian contemplated, his father no doubt knowing the decrepit state of the ‘villa’, no doubt meant to further insult him for his failure.
“They are slaves Marius; they know their place. And besides, killing a feeble old man on the first day will do nothing but enrage them.” Directing his attention to a blonde-haired slave woman. “You. Where is my room?”
The woman shrunk at his words, “Upstairs master at the east side of the building.”
“Come Marius, let us inspect my new chambers. Slave, fetch me a jug of wine and two cups. Do not dilute it. Quickly now.” I want this day to be over as soon as possible.
The slave bowed and then ran to the kitchen as Aurelian and Marius climbed the stairs. Each step emits a loud creaking as if they might collapse at any time. Finding the room, he opened to door to reveal a cramped chamber, a small stone fireplace with a bronze cauldron balanced on metal legs. The ‘bed’ was a crude-looking piece of wood covered in straw and a fur blanket. This is worse than what we slept in while on campaign.
“Behold Marius, a room fit for a prince.” He fell on the bed, sitting on it with a loud creak.
“Where shall the rest of the men and the slaves you brought sleep Aurelian? We have tents for now, but we will need a more permanent solution soon.”
“For the time being tents will have to suffice. The slaves can just bunk in the slave quarters in the basement. As for you, you’ll be sleeping here.”
A figure appeared in the doorway clutching a heavy flagon in one hand and two clay cups in the other. Their mouth opened to speak but were interrupted. “Just leave it on the table and be gone.”
The slave complied and was gone in an instant. Aurelian filled the cups with a cloudy red liquid with a particularly strange smell. This is peasant wine. He handed one cup to Marius. “A toast, to our new lives.”
Marius sniffed the cup, clearly unenthusiastic about drinking such swill before tapping their cups together. “For now.”
The sun sank below the horizon as Aurelian and Marius drank together in silence, ignorant of the danger brewing under their feet.