"Remind me, Napoleus, what have we covered?"

"Excellency," Napoleus pulled out some parchment papers from under his latest letter. "We've ordered Oppius to land at Syracuse and lay siege to the last Greek stronghold outside Asia. Cassius has been ordered to dispatch three infantry companies to join Captain Tiberius and the relief force for Salona. Umm, Brother Aulus has been commanded to hold his position until reinforcements arrive. Finally, Annaeus has been told to keep a sharp look-out for Macedonian activity. Umm..." the secretary paged back through his notes to double check.

"Rhodes!" queried Vibius.

"Excellency, you have made no decision yet."

"Ah, hrm," Vibius paused and looked at his father's bust on its marble pedestal. "My father recommended an invasion of Asia." A long pause followed as Vibius stared into his father's marble eyes and Napoleus continued shuffling through his parchment stack. A prodigious number of oil lamps kept the room well lit even though it was completely dark outside. The palace guard changed as the bell tolled the fourth hour before sunlight.

"Excellency, dated two weeks before your father's death, I have a dispatch here where your august father requested reconnaissance of the shores around Halicarnassus. The countryside and the great city are held by some minor and weak Asiatic rebels."

"Yes, yes, and while our finest commander, my dear brother Amulius, and our best field army are tromping around the wastes of Asia we have undermanned town watch militias to defend our Roman and Greek cities. No, Napoleus, no." Vibius shook his head vigorously. "The Army of the Victor will not step foot on Asian soil until I can foresee an alleviation to our ills at home. I need Brother Amulius and his troops here. We need to secure Illyria. We need to provide adequate garrisons for the cities we currently possess. And certainly a stronger presence is needed to keep the peace with Macedon. Mars only knows what those foul mountainfolk are plotting."

"Certainly, Excellency," the secretary scribbled down some notes, quickly dipping his quill in and out of the ink well with calculated rhythm. "The Gauls, Excellency?"

"Bah, the Gauls. Barbarians. Not worth my consideration or time, Napoleus. Amulius should make short work of them, assuming peace with our other neighbors. Perhaps I can send the Army of the Victor up Illyria and drive those foul barbarians back into the distant mountains from whence they came."

"Enemy fleet movements, Excellency?"

"Hrm, yes, a concern," Vibius began pacing the room again, staring at the floor with is intent, dark brown eyes. "We'll have to be careful. The last thing we need is our best army to be lost at sea to those Greek pirates or to some curse of Neptune. If Mars smiles on us, we can bring over the Army of the Victor within a single season, land them at Apollonia or along the southwest coast. Get them off those ships."

"Excellency, shall I have a war council convened?"

"Yes, certainly. Perhaps they can give me a specific plan for the Army of the Victor after their successful return. Hrm, leave only a handful of light companies in Rhodes. And send for Sextus and my wife and daughter."

"Ave, General," the centurion saluted and bowed.

"Ave," Oppius looked up from his fresh map of the city's defenses. "And how is the sap developing on the eastern wall?"

"It shall be completed tomorrow, General. Our engineers are close to the walls and with the prior damage sustained, we should complete the mine tomorrow at mid-day."

"Splendid! Thank you centurion, dismissed."

"General," the centurion bowed and left. Oppius beamed with the certain knowledge that victory would greet him on the morrow.

"Praise Mars! King Dionysios of Sparta is trapped with his bodyguard and a handful of militia. Revenge shall be exacted and Syracuse will finally be ours!" He slapped his captains on the back and adjourned to his private quarters where he slept easily through the rest of the night.

Dawn found the Roman camp busy as the soldiers of the hastati centuries polished their armor and sharpened their swords in preparation for battle. A small cluster of robed priests raised their prayers to Mars amidst the morning bustle. The horses pawed in nervous anticipation. Oppius emerged from his tent at the tenth hour of the day in full regalia. The signum of the Senate and the Brutii family were unfurled as he mounted his chestnut horse. The commander and his officers viewed the progress of the sap from afar and counted the hours until its completion. The final work was completed by the mercenaries, and the damaged eastern wall collapsed.

Oppius secured his helmet and waved his army forward at once with all haste. "To glory!" he cried with youthful zest, mustering all the breath his small lungs. Around him rode a dozen officers and heavily armed bodyguards. Trailing behind their commander came the nine companies of hastati.

The streets of the great city of Syracuse were eerily deserted as the Brutii army charged down the pavement. Only the echo of their stomping feet could be heard as they headed towards the city square where surely the king wait before his mighty palace of stone. The militia had been spotted on the walls on the far side of the city. They would be a non-factor in the battle.

"General! General, we should slow down," one of the captains shouted to Oppius amidst the clatter of their horses's hooves on the pavement. The other officers quickly chimed in their agreement and Oppius motioned the cavalry to slow to a trot.

"Indeed," Oppius blew his breath, as he paused. "Look, there is the enemy cavalry drawn up before the palace." He breathed deeply. "That must be the king... Bring up the infantry!"

"They're on their way, General, but they're still a block away," answered a captain. The cavalry had gotten some distance ahead of the foot soldiers.

"I don't like this quiet," another captain grimaced as he turned around in his saddle surveying the small paved square they had now entered still a few blocks from the palace. No peasants or resistance could be seen anywhere.

"Bah, Mars is on our side. We need..." Oppius stopped mid-sentence as he unsheathed his sword. Curses rang out from his bodyguards as they drew their swords. A terrible cry filled their ears as a Greek cavalry company from a side street charged into the Romans. Horses neighed and metal clashed with metal. Screams filled the air as flesh was gouged. Oppius plunged his sword deep into the chest of one of the Greek soldiers who crashed to the ground. He turned his wide brown eyes to the next enemy who bore a royal standard; "King Dionysios!" cursed Oppius under his breath.

"Save your self, General!" one of the bodyguards next to Oppius shouted.

The Roman infantry a ways down the street shrieked in rage upon seeing their commander under ambush and in danger. With their centurions hounding them on, the infantry broke into a full run in an attempt to save their commander.

Dionysios of Sparta saw his opportunity and sunk his grandfather's sword into the hindquarters of the Roman commander's horse. Oppius was thrown from his saddle and violently tossed to the cobblestone. Dazed he looked up at the bright sun overhead, his head aching. A sudden, cold pain pierced his chest. Still looking at the sky, he closed his eyes and slumped to the pavement. The Greek soldier who had killed Oppius pulled his spear from the general's body and turned to face the hastati who bore down upon the Greeks with a fury. Within the space of only a few moments, the Greeks were surrounded and cut down to a man. King Dionysius fell after suffering a half dozen sword blows. Syracuse had fallen.

"Please do," Vibius answered not looking up from his scribbling notes on an old map of the Greek states.

"The letter reads,

Ave, Vibius!

Noble Roman Senator, Paterfamilias of the Brutii, Governor of Tarentum, and Commander of the Eastern Legions.

Excellency,

Syracuse fell to us the fifteenth of Martius. King Dionysios of Sparta was slain in combat and his domain is now ours. I regret to inform Your Excellency that your nephew, Aulus' son, Oppius Brutus, fell. His bodyguard was ambushed as he led his troops to victory. The army was much disturbed by your nephew's loss, and regrettably the officers lost control of their soldiers. Syracuse was violently sacked for several days before order was restored. I have sent to Your Excellency some sixteen thousand denarii taken from Dionysios' coffers. With the fleet I will also be sending relevant military dispatches, various treasures seized from the royal palace, and other materials. The city is largely deserted and my estimates are that some twelve thousand citizens have been killed outright in the bloodbath following the siege. I await your orders.

Signed Centurion Maximus Tarquinius."

Vibius frowned and looked up from his parchments. "Oppius is dead?"

"Yes, Excellency."

"Aulus will take that hard. For shame, Oppius was only seventeen, if I remember correctly. I'll send a special letter to Aulus tonight," Vibius paused again to reflect on the dispatch. "Syracuse will be firmly in our hands for at least two generations after carnage on that scale. Gods, my boys sure know how to take it to those Greeks don't they?"

"So it would seem, Excellency," Napoleus forced a smile.

"Well, a river of Greek blood spilled for Rome's greater glory is nonetheless spilled for Rome's greater glory. Have Artius rewrite the dispatch from Maximus and send it to Rome with my compliments to the Senate. Hrm, twelve thousand Greeks! Can you imagine, Napoleus! Ha! Gods!"

"What shall we name our new son, dear husband?" she looked up to him with her inquiring blue eyes.

Aulus's expression bore no emotion as he stared at his wife for a moment, "He shall be named Marcus." Aulus looked at the child again, turned on his heels, and left the bedchamber just as he quickly and quietly as he had entered it. Hostia frowned. Her husband had taken the news of Oppius' death a year ago rather badly. It had been a rough year for Governor Aulus. A Gallic army had laid siege to his provincial capital of Salona where they resided. His garrison consisted of a handful of militia. His youngest son had been in charge of the dangerous Syracuse mission where Cornelius Brutus had fallen three years before. The omens were not good. Oppius was dead. To make Aulus' life more difficult, his youngest brother, Vibius, was paterfamilias. Every ship that docked in Salona came with a cartful or more of correspondence from Vibius in Tarentum. Aulus, after all, was Tiberius' oldest son. It was Aulus who should have been made paterfamilias. Father spoke, though. What's done, is done, he sighed.

Aulus closed the door to his quaint office and sat down on the sofa in front of the west-facing window. The sun was setting over the dark blue expanse of the Mare Adriaticum that separated Illyria from the main Roman peninsula. He now had a new son, even at his advanced age. Hostia wasn't young anymore, but everything still worked apparently. Aulus grimaced as he suppressed a laugh and poured himself some dark wine. He glanced back at his desk where a pile of parchments from the capital lay. His brother was amazing if only for the fact he could generate such an immense quantity of paperwork. Nothing of immediate concern, anyway, Aulus thought to himself. A few letters asking about his wife's condition, letters about Gallic movements, questions about Macedonian intentions, and probably more questions and suggestions on provincial rule. Aulus finished his wine and took up a quill to pen a dispatch to Vibius.

Ave Vibius!

Greetings brother,

Hostia has just given birth to a son whom I have named Marcus. I pray he will some day render Rome the same glory that Your Excellency has. I have confirmed that the Gallic army has moved back up the Dalmatian coast. From what I can gather, the Gauls are threatened by the movements of several Julii armies on the northern plains. The commander of the garrison at Segestica can confirm my report. We have now verified that it was indeed a Greek fleet that sailed past us here some months ago. I believe it is at Patavium. In other news, a plague has been reported to be sweeping through Macedonia. This is of some concern with their armies at our borders and tensions high in Greece. I fear the consequences of going to war with Macedonia at this time. Amulius and his army are at Apollonia last I heard. Good health and long life, august brother!

--signed,

Aulus Brutus
Governor of Salona

"Well, dear friend, what do you think?"

"Excellency, regrettably I can offer no valid counsel on the matter. I am your humble servant. The question is a family matter."

"Damn your silence, Napoleus. Bah, I can only imagine the council will be divided over the proper course of action to pursue."

The two stopped in their tracks as the sound of little children giggling reached their ears. A few moments later Vibius' children appeared around a corner with a handful of servants chasing after them. The aged Napoleus beamed a grandfatherly smile as he picked up Antistia. Sextus jumped into his father's opened arms as the servants bowed and sought apologies for letting the children run free. Vibius reached over and kissed young Atia, only two years old, who was held firmly by her nurse. Vibius ran around with his children for a few moments giving them uncontrollable giggles. The children and their keepers disappeared as quickly as they had come and the garden fell silent once more.

"I dearly wish young Sextus to rule in my stead, Napoleus. He is my eldest child and my son. By Mars, I wish him to be paterfamilias."

"But why not, Excellency?" asked Napoleus.

"But he is still too young to take over any of the administration. And he won't be able to begin military training for another year or two at least. Even then, it's simply sword play and horse riding," Vibius paused as he looked to the heavens. "Napoleus, I'm becoming an old man. It's been too long since I have been on the campaign trail. Too long I have festered away here on my father's estate. Amulius is called the Victor. His army at this moment has just driven off the Dacians and cleared Illyria of its brigandage. He has spent his whole life in the field and is the most feared general in the civilized world!"

"Indeed, Excellency. If you go on campaign, though . . ."

"If?" Vibius' voice rose noticeably and his face flushed scarlet. "I am going on campaign. I depart next spring with the western fleet. I'm taking three hastati centuries from Tarentum and I'm going to Syracuse to form an army. To war, Napoleus!"

"Excellency," Napoleus bowed low, "What of the succession?"

"Gods! Succession?" Vibius ground his teeth for a moment trying to collect his thoughts. "Amulius is still the heir, from my father's estate."

"Sextus is still too young, Excellency."

"Dare I change the succession? Amulius is quite popular and obviously our greatest field commander. He yields considerable influence. . ."

"And he's forty-seven years of age, Excellency."

"True, true enough. But. . . ." Vibius stroked his chin for a moment. "My nephews, Titus or Cassius? They're both still relatively young. Both have just celebrated the birth of male heirs. Who is the more capable ruler? Gods, I shudder to consider either."

"Perhaps the lesser of two evils is necessary, Excellency?"

"Titus is lazy and ungrateful. The gods only know how much he has pilfered from the family's rightful income from Rhodes. I'm told he takes at least a sixth of our tax revenue off the top from the Rhodesians."

"Your other nephew is a heavy drinker and well known for his loose morals with the womenfolk at his provincial court."

"Curse that dog," Vibius grimaced. "Cassius is the antithesis of an upright, family bound household head. "A disgrace to the Brutii name! Gods, and his wife! I can't even count the number of her lovers. I swear by Mercury and Mars, none of their children will rule anything bigger than a frontier town. Be damned if any children from that woman can be considered Brutii!"

"Excellency, perhaps Kaseo . . . Governor of Thermon?"

"Hrm, well, Kaseo is a noble and loyal governor. He lacks a child, however, and he's only a few years younger than I am. Hrm, and he's not of Brutii blood."

"Then the lesser of two evils it must be, Excellency."

Vibius shook his head and leaned against one of the many fig trees in his garden. He looked to the heavens and tried to fathom the will of the gods. It was crucial to have a clear path of succession if he was going to leave on campaign. Right? Or perhaps he could simply make no decision. Sextus was six years old. Ten more years and he could take Vibius' place. That would leave an adolescent boy in charge of a massive Roman estate and noble family. Selfishness could be the downfall of the entire Brutii family if Vibius rolled the wrong dice. He clenched and unclenched his fists. The burden of leadership was immense at times like this. Vibius sighed loudly as he looked back down to the ground. What if father had chosen Aulus or Amulius?

"Your soldiers are most impressive, captain," Vibius beamed with pride.

"Yes, Excellency. You have put together a fine army here at Apollonia."

"Yes, yes. Victory awaits us to the north. We march for Segestica."

A messenger dismounted from his panting steed, and bowed to Napoleus. The chief secretary opened the sealed letter and read the latest dispatch from Amulius. Without changing the expression on his face he got up from his sofa. Two servants approached and took hold of his arms, helping to hold him up as he walked towards Vibius. The bodyguards and officers parted as Napoleus neared.

"Excuse me, Excellency, Amulius' latest dispatch has arrived."

"Ah, well, excuse me gentlemen. Business calls!" Vibius flashed a broad smile and motioned for his staff to disperse. Only two bodyguards remained as the parade continued. "So, what news?"

"Excellency, Aquincum has fallen. Most of the town was put to the sword in accordance with your directive and some two thousand denarii are on their way in carts under escort," Napoleus paused. "Of interest, however, Amulius has received office from the Senate."

"Office?"

"Your august brother has been elected quaestor for this term."

"Hrm, well, good. About time the Senate recognizes the merits of Amulius Brutus. He has served Rome with distinction and honor his entire life. Send him my sincere congratulations. Remind him to keep me posted on his progress in Dacia."

War with Dacia had broken out four years ago, shortly after Vibius had left Tarentum for Syracuse. At Syracuse, Vibius stayed for a year as governor. On a patrol in the countryside, his army had surprised the remnant of the Greek army hiding in the mountains. Vibius personally commanded a clear victory at the Battle of Rolling Mountains where Lamachos of Thessaly was slain. Shortly afterwards, war with Carthage had been ordered by the Senate and a Brutii fleet duly blockaded their main port. Syracuse was only a detour, however, for Vibius to pick up Oppius' army. Leaving a strong garrison, Vibius left for Apollonia. His hair had turned gray as he passed fifty years old. He was still plagued almost daily with concerns over the succession. Meanwhile, his nephews Cassius and Titus Brutus had become even more undesirable as candidates. Cassius was called "the Lewd" openly in the streets of Apollonia and throughout the lands of the Brutii family. Far away on Rhodes, perhaps because of his isolation, Titus continued skimming from the taxes and now had become a heavy drinker by most accounts. He personally controlled all trade that went in and out of Rhodes. The gods only knew how much he was pocketing off of his trade control.

Paterfamilias Vibius hadn't deliberately sought this current war with Dacia. He was busy plotting for ways to exploit the Gallic presence around Patavum when Dacia suddenly attacked Segestica. He'd been forced to deploy Amulius and the Army of the Victor in the eastern wilderness. His brother's campaigns had earned him the title "Mighty" as he scored victories first against the Illyrian brigands and then the Dacian warbands. Victories were easy enough to come by against barbarians. During Vibius' reign not a single battle had been lost. Even his great father, Tiberius, could not have made such a claim.

The family was prospering. Since the death of Oppius, almost a dozen children had been born to the various branches of the Brutii family. Even Amulius had another child in his advanced age. Vibius was dissatisfied with his military gains, however, since his armies had won all their battles but only Syracuse and Aquincum had been added to the Brutii domain. Amulius continued to win battle after battle and now rightly was honored as quaestor, but he was well on his way to the grave--as were all the sons of Tiberius. Time was running short and this caused Vibius to become increasingly anxious. He prayed for his wife and children who were at the court in Tarentum where Appius Crassus now presided as governor. Fate was not in his hands, and so he turned back to the parade at hand. He would take his army north. His expensive army, he grimaced. Mercenaries were never cheap enough for his tastes. He had no wish to further burden his cities, though, so mercenaries it would be.

Vibius smiled wryly. "That Amulius is something else, isn't he? He is a man of singular aim: to glorify Rome, as a Brutus."

"An expensive aim, Excellency," Alexander returned Vibius' smile.

"Bah, five thousand denarii to give Amulius three centuries of the finest mercenaries money can buy is well worth it, Alexander," lied Vibius as he turned away to look at the blue sea. The Bastarnae infantry had been very expensive. They were crude, half-naked savages with strange weapons and an incomprehensible language. Then again, Amulius was in desperate need of reinforcements and none would be forthcoming from Rome or from Dalmatia. Vibius had been forced to augment his own army with several Illyrian mercenary centuries. "Where is Amulius?"

Alexander procured a rolled up map from a leather case at his side. He studied some markings on it briefly before responding, "Somewhere near Campus Iazyges."

"Iaz-ah. . . what? Damned barbarians! Curse them," spat Vibius. "Amulius knows what to do with those Dacian rat holes, right?"

"Yes, Excellency."

"How far from Patavium are we?"

"Excellency, we are a day's march north. We should reach Iuvavum in three months time; it is a difficult march up through the mountain passes."

Vibius pulled the reins gently and brought his horse to a stop. The army was beginning to ascend a rather steep hillside. He paused to admire the scenery: in the distance, large white mountains in front and to the flanks of the army. Around them were steep, rolling green hills. A forest behind them marked the road back to Patavium, the Gallic city the Army of Illyria had bypassed on its way to Iuvavum through the mountain passes. Vibius turned to watch the skirmishers are they began to spread out at the hill's crest. He frowned as a loud murmur swept the front of the army. A moment later the hills began to echo with the sound of horns and the ground began to shake ever-so slightly. A scout came galloping pell-mell up to Vibiu, "Excellency! Gauls! An entire army!"

Vibius jerked the reins of his horse and shouted to the captains to organize their infantry into fighting ranks. "Prepare to receive infantry!" the paterfamilias shouted as he rode along the length of the column. A broad line of five centuries of hastati rapidly formed ranks in front of Vibius as he ascended the hill. In front of them, Illyrian mercenaries were streaming back down the hill with Gallic warband infantry running amongst them.

"Form ranks! Hold the line!" rose a chorus of shouts and curses from the centurions and captains as they tried to keep their cohorts together in the ensuing chaos.

"Reform archers in the center! Skirmishers to the left flank! Damnit, hold the line! Anxius, bring up those damned rear centuries!" Vibius drew his sword as he tried to make sense of the confusion on the hilltop. A general action erupted all along the line as the main Gallic infantry forces slammed into the Roman line. Chaos reigned. "By the gods, reform the skirmishers, centurion! What am I paying you for? Where are my reserves? Alexander, get the household staff back to the rear camp." A hole formed in the center of the Roman line where the mob of routed Illyrians had disrupted the hastati century trying to plug the gap. Two centuries of warband infantry poured into the hole and threatened to roll up the entire Roman line. "Anxius, hold the left, I'll buy time with my guard. Take out their general, for Mars' sake!"

The centurion spurned his horse into action and took off towards the left of the Roman line where the enemy general and his cavalry were making inroads on the mercenary centuries who had reformed. Vibius waved his sword and led the bodyguard cavalry forward into the Roman center. Next to him were carried the elaborate signum of the Brutii family and the Roman Senate. A gold-laced green cape flowed in the breeze and his decorative armor marked Vibius as an easy target. The battle had devolved into a brutal hand-to-hand slugfest which most of the Roman soldiers were unused to. Barbarians rarely were able to even dent a solid Roman infantry line, much less inflict such dire results as were now being wrought.

The initial charge of Vibius and his bodyguard had stemmed the breakthrough in the Roman center. A pile of dead Gauls lay underneath the pawing, nervous horses of the guard. Unfortunately, the impetus of their charge had carried them deep into the Gallic center with the supporting Romans fifty yards back, still struggling to regain cohesion. Within the space of ten minutes, half of Vibius' guards were killed along with their horses which were ruthlessly speared by the Gauls. The guard captain carrying the Senate signum turned to Vibius after he beheaded a barbarian trying to impale his horse. "For Mars' sake, Excellency, fall back! Fall back, we can't hold! Fall..." a spear was driven deep into the unprotected underside of the captain's armor and he fell heavily from his horse. Vibius turned in time to see the Senate signum fall to the ground amidst a host of jeering Gauls. The paterfamilias grit his teeth and turned to cleave open a barbarian swordsman's head. Wiping the blood from his face, Vibius brought his horse around and urged it forward. Two more of his guards were dismounted and their horses killed with great violence. He could hear the screaming of one of his men who was being bludgeoned to death a few feet away. A Gaul stepped in front of Vibius' horse and waved his axe, causing the steed to rise up. Vibius clasped the reins for dear life as his horse reared up and turned back towards the mass of barbarians. Another stroke by Vibius' sword bit into the soft neck of a young barbarian with long blonde hair. Another of Vibius' guards rode up in front of the paterfamilias and began hacking at the approaching Gauls who began to appreciate the value of the target. A large rock flew through the air and struck Vibius on the forehead.

Blackness engulfed the paterfamilias for a moment. He closed his eyes. Then he saw Sextus, his young son growing up to be a fine young man in a flowing green tunic standing on the courtyard balcony at the palace in Tarentum. Sextus and Antistia and Atia! His beautiful and noble children and Pomponia, his faithful wife. Vibius opened his eyes. Half-naked barbarians were jeering and shouting on all sides. A quick glance from side-to-side confirmed that the paterfamilias stood alone. The green pennants and the signum of Rome were gone. Vibius raised his sword to the heavens. "Not this day, Mars! Not this day!!!" he screamed from the depth of his lungs and spurred his horse back towards the Roman lines. With the hands of the gods at his steed's hooves, Vibius plowed a path through the menacing horde of Gauls, hacking and slashing as he strove to survive amidst the spear and sword thrusts of a hundred foes. His horse knocked down the last barbarian in his path as he regained the Roman lines which had held. Vibius could hear the howls of the Gauls behind him and continued to push his horse forward, past the Romans who formed up to fill the gap in the line. Vibius continued galloping down the hill and away from the battle, ignoring the officers who had tried to gain his attention. In fact, he continued pressing his horse until he arrived at the Roman camp far behind the battlefield.

Vibius jumped off his horse and bent over to try and catch his breath. The horse stood still for a moment before falling over dead, its wide eyes staring into eternity. Vibius waved off the servants and aides who rushed to his side and spit out thick, red blood onto the flattened grass. His head was swimming; a thousand images flooded his mind. A couple of hours later, messengers arrived to report the conclusion of the battle. The Gauls had been driven back and a close victory won, however, the Army of Illyria had been decimated. Vibius was later told that of his six hundred and fifty soldiers, four hundred and fifty-including his entire guard-had fallen that day at the Battle of Mount Patavium. Vibius ordered an immediate retreat and refused to see anyone for a week. Leaving the remnants of his army at Segestica, Vibius boarded his fleet to return to Tarentum. While on board he received dispatches reporting the heroic victory of Amulius at Campus Iazyges.

In three years, Sextus would be old enough to assume control of the Brutii family. It had been a decision long in developing and fraught with tension. It was a gamble, a calculated gamble. Now Vibius' family prayed the Brutii family would stand together at the succession. The nephews of Vibius had slowly begun to reconcile themselves to the fact their uncle's son would in fact gain the inheritance. Perhaps it would all pay off in the end, but only the gods know. Only the gods know. Alexander broke the seal on the official senatorial correspondence.

Alexander quickly skimmed the official, boring document. "Excellency, your august brother Amulius has just been elected aedile for the year."

"Aedile? Hrm, ha. I'm sure Amulius will delegate that to one of his junior officers or some noble tribune. I can't imagine he'd care much of anything for the maintenance of Rome or corn distribution. Good to see him gaining more prestige and recognition."

"No, indeed, Excellency," Alexander smiled and thanked the gods Vibius still retained at least some of his dry wit. "Another message from the Senate mentions that Titus, Governor of Rhodes, has been elected quaestor."

"What!?" roared Vibius as he pushed himself up from the sofa. "The people elected Titus quaestor? Gods! Those imbiciles know nothing of administration, do they? Are they completely ignorant of his fleecing in Rhodes? His fraudulent administration? Bah, well, fine. Why not fleece Rome, eh?" Vibius laughed out loud. "By the gods, perhaps we shall profit from this, for surely Rome will not. Send him a letter pressing him for some financial support for the Brutii estate. Call it a family gratuity or something, Alexander."

"Yes, Excellency," the Greek bowed. "There are several letters here concerning Gaius Marius in Rome."

"Yes, yes, I've heard of him. Very interesting soldier. Hrm, well, change is good for the armies. Cohorts instead of centuries. Huh. . . Well, I'll look over those letters later, Alexander. Have Appius and Decius left yet?"

Vibius was referring to Appius Crassus, an adopted son of Amulius. Appius was turning into an excellent leader and had displayed impressive military talent to Vibius when he had returned from the last Dalmatian campaign. Decius Propertrius was an adopted son, in turn, of Appius Crassus. Both possessed an interest in serving in the Brutii legions. Alexander checked another letter, "Yes, Excellency. They've taken a few cohorts of infantry and are on their way to Illyria."

"Excellent. I want them to raise two armies in Illyria. Raise four or five cohorts of auxilia and four or five light legionary cohorts in Illyria from our cities there. Free up five thousand denarii for mercenaries."

"It shall be done, Excellency," Alexander bowed. "Finally, what of Asinius?"

"Asinius Minucius? Hrm, send him a letter that we are flattered by his proposal, but he will have to wait one more year for my beautiful daughter Antistia. He can have her hand in the spring. As a dowry, I will offer him the governorship of Croton, but he can learn of that at the wedding feast. Now, if you'll excuse me," Vibius rose from his sofa. "It's time for this old man to have his bath."

The sixteen years old man nervously eyed the throng of guests in the great hall. A thousand faces looked towards him and his father, who was seated to his left. He smiled at his mother and sisters who sat close by at another table flanked by household guards. The music stopped and a hush fell over the great hall as Vibius rose to his feet. He was adorned in a simple olive green tunic with moderate gold lacing around the shoulders. "Your attention, senators, generals, governors, family, friends, and honored guests. Tonight we mark the celebration of my son, Sextus, reaching his sixteenth year!"

Vibius turned to Sextus and motioned him to stand up. Sextus could see the tears in Vibius' eyes as he put his arm around his son. "This is my son, in whom I am well pleased." The hall broke into thunderous applause as everyone rose to their feet. It was some time before the crowd settled down enough for Vibius to be heard. "In accordance with my desires and with the blessing of my brothers, I pronounce Sextus Brutus, son of Vibius the Wrathful, as heir to the title paterfamilias." Again, loud applause echoed throughout the great hall. "I want to thank my dear Brother Amulius, for bearing that distinction for all these years. I think we all realize, however, that it would be best for the Brutii family if a younger man could be found." Laughter rolled over the people, save for Cassius and Titus. They sat gloomily at a side table near the front of the hall, stewing in their bitterness of the reality they had been forced to accept: they were unworthy of the honor of paterfamilias. It had taken considerable effort and forceful language to bring Titus over from his Rhodesian fortress and Cassius had been given strict instructions concerning how he was to behave during his stay at the capital. Aulus and Amulius were seated to the left of Vibius. Aulus, of course, couldn't be stirred into happiness regardless of the circumstances and Amulius was not thrilled about being called away from his army in Dacia during the middle of another campaign.

"The first step in my son's succession shall be his appointment, in my stead, as Governor of Tarentum," Vibius' old voice still managed to boom out to the far corners of the room as he hugged his son. "I shall not remain here as his nurse maid. This winter, I leave for Illyria with the legionary cohorts."

Silence fell upon the great hall for several long seconds as the people took in the news that Vibius was leaving on campaign, again. It had been five years since the Battle of Mount Patavium. Gradually, a dull murmur arose as everyone began to lean to their neighbor and discuss the announcement. Sextus stared at his father with the wide eyes of surprise, since he had been given no previous warning of this from Vibius. He had just been named heir and now his father was leaving on campaign. His father, with gray hair and whiskers, was now fifty-seven years old. Sextus shivered as he contemplated the burden that was about to come unto his young shoulders.

"Remember, Alexander, if I do not survive to see Tarentum again, destroy those plans. Those are only for Sextus and only if I am able to return to give him those plans in person."

"Yes, Excellency." The plans he referred to dealt with the scouting reports from a reconnaissance fleet Vibius had dispatched many years ago. It had covered the entire eastern rim of the Mare Internum, and had worked its way far west along the African coast. A list of targets had been compiled personally by Vibius. Even while Amulius and his army were deep in the east conquering barbarian villages, Vibius was dreaming of conquest throughout the Mare Internum. Two armies were camped in Greece under Appius and Decius and two Brutii fleets were on schedule to rendezvous with them. Alliances had been concluded with the Spanish, whose powerful navies helped open up the Mare Internum to safe passage, and the tribes of Germania who could prove a helpful counter to the Gauls. Trade had been opened with Scythia and a small corps of assassins had been trained in Dacia. Things were going quite well for the Brutii family.

"You've heard my son has married, right?"

"Yes, Excellency. A pretty young woman named Helena--an excellent match."

"Now if only the Senate would leave me alone in my old age," Vibius smirked. "An old man like me shouldn't be bouncing around in a saddle all day. Amulius is supposed to die in the saddle; I'm supposed to die at my desk."

Alexander smiled. He knew his master was simply trying to lighten the mood. Vibius was never one to shirk from duty and certainly did not shy away from battle, even though Mount Patavium was remembered by all who were there. The survivors told the story, although they were unanimous in praising Vibius for his ferocity in combat. He had been surrounded the entire time he was at the front and he had come away from the battle with only a few scratches. Save for the few survivors, and the widows and families who grieved the dead, only Vibius lost sleep because of the memories of Patavium.

"We shall be going through the forests, instead of mountains, Excellency," commented an aged man wearing the resplendent uniform of a legionary legate, sitting on his well-groomed horse a few feet away. In his right hand was the staff bearing the signum of the Brutii Family.

Vibius nodded, "You're correct Anxius." The paterfamilias nodded again. Anxius had been a centurion at the Battle of Mount Patavium. "Was it so long ago, Anxius?"

"Excellency," Anxius bowed and looked away. It had been the ugliest battle Anxius had ever been through, and he'd been a soldier all his life. His eyes watered for a moment as he admired the young soldiers of the new legionary cohorts marching past. They were wearing much stronger armor and had better weapons than the boys who had fallen at Patavium. "Gods," Anxius shook his head and stared at the ground.

All messengers wore the same tunic of red and gold, and Sextus recognized the middle-aged man as being one of his father's trusted men. The man bowed low as Sextus got out of bed and slipped on a silk shirt. He presented his ring to the messenger who dully kissed it.

"Ave, Paterfamilias," the man bowed very low at he waist.

Sextus' eyes grew large as the messenger handed him a single, sealed scroll. "Dispatch from Secretary Alexander for Your Excellency." The man bowed again and left as quickly as he had come.

Sextus broke the Brutii seal and unraveled the parchment:

Ave, Paterfamilias!
Iuvavum Camp, Januarius 514

Sextus Brutus
Noble Roman Senator, Paterfamilias of the Brutii, Governor of Tarentum, and Commander of the Eastern Legions.

Your august father, Vibius the Wrathful, passed away in his sleep the first of this month. His ring and various papers will be returned to you on the next available ship. We fought a large Battle at Iuvavum where we lost a great many soldiers. Your father was well protected during the entire engagement, but we lost a great many troops because we could not decisively deploy for fear of any harm coming to Vibius. We called the battle off as an average victory, sustaining about two hundred casualties. The city is still under siege. We've received reports of a great victory by Amulius at Venedae Forest, so I would expect to see dispatches from the eastern front in Februarius. I want to congratulate you, personally, on your succession. I recommend appointing one of your cousins as heir until your children come of age. Your father trusts your judgment, Sextus, just as I trust it. You should not expect to see plans or paperwork for future projects, however, for they have been destroyed in accordance with your father's wishes. With your blessing, Excellency, I wish to retire. May the gods show you their eternal favor!

--signed,

Alexander
Chief Secretary

The Lands of the Brutii, AUC 514