Centurion's Rise (22 page)

As the defenders dealt with death
overwhelming them from above, the air around Tomal came alive with the sound of three hundred squealing pigs on the move toward the rapidly deteriorating gladiator lines.  Usually the animals had a pink complexion to their skin but on this occasion they were all black - pitch black. 

“Light them up,” Tomal ordered.

On cue, the farmers lit their torches and set the swine closest to them on fire.  The black tar coating the animal’s skin instantly lit to set the entire pig’s body ablaze.  The searing pain sent the animals scampering forward and side to side, thus setting every tar drenched pig near them on fire as well.  The flames raced across the pigs, like a red and yellow tide washing up to shore until all three hundred were ablaze and stampeding toward the unsuspecting gladiators.

Hot on the heels of the flaming pigs, Tomal’s foot soldiers charged with orders to kill every single man whether he put up a fight or not. 

After five minutes of combat, Tomal spurred his horse forward.  He easily navigated the wreckage that once was the barricade and proudly stepped into the training grounds.  Most battle fields carried the revolting stench of dirt, sweat and blood.  This conflict had the aroma of a fine dinner party.  The sweet smell of sizzling bacon welcomed him into the fray, along with an ill-meaning swing of a sword by one of the gladiators. 

Tomal deflected the blow to the side and watched three of his soldiers impale his assailant in the back.  All around the training ground gladiators bravely fought three, four, and even five men at a time, but eventually one too many came at them and the warrior fell. 

In the remarkably short duration of combat, all but a couple dozen gladiators lay dead on the ground, along with several hundred smoldering pigs.  Each gladiator was hopelessly outnumbered, but one was fairing quite well despite the numbers arrayed against him.

Gallono armed himself with a sword in each hand, or Tomal assumed they were swords as the man was moving them about with such blinding speed Tomal’s eyes couldn’t focus on them to verify the assumption.  Twirling left to right, high and low, Gallono managed to keep twenty soldiers at bay.

Tomal jabbed his heels into the sides of his mount to prompt a slow gallop toward the action.  The circle of soldiers pressing in on Gallono took three steps back from their prey as Tomal drew near.  Gallono brought his arms and body to a halt yet his chest continued to heave and gasp for much needed air.  He looked up at Tomal, who sat upon his horse fifteen feet away, with a strangely amused look.

Tomal addressed Gallono in their native Novan tongue to keep the content of the conversation private from those looking on.

“With all the practice you put in to be this lethal in combat, one would think you’d pick up a book somewhere along the way to learn basic military tactics,”
Tomal began. 
“For instance, selecting a position hemmed in on three sides to make your stand was not wise. Then again, look who I’m talking to.”

“That depends on your objective,”
Gallono responded coolly.  “
If I hid too well you wouldn’t have found me, and that would have messed up his plan.”

“
Who’s plan?,”
Tomal demanded. 
“Hastelloy’s?  You left.  You don’t follow his orders anymore.  None of us do.”

“That’s what I thought too,”
Gallono said with admiration in his voice. 
“Now I see I’ve been working towards his end game the whole time.  We all are, even you.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Tomal said shifting back to the common Latin language.

Gallono shook his head from side to side.  “He knew I’d be a champion in the arena.  That as a champion you would insult my honor and cause a riot.  The riots would exploit your lack of governing acumen which would bring Caesar away from Egypt and back to Rome.  Now you’re here defeating me, but where is Caesar?”

Tomal mulled Gallono’s words in silence until comprehension finally
struck.  He had to forcibly choke back the urge to vomit when he finally saw the whole picture.

“How does it feel to be a pawn in his g
ame?” Gallono mocked when he saw Tomal’s face turning white.  “Just when you think you’re a big boy operating on your own . . .”

Gallono’s words were cut short as an arrow slammed into the middle of his throat and knocked him onto his back.  Everyone looked up at Tomal with surprise at how quickly he was able to
notch an arrow and launch it from his bow to bring down the gladiator who was unbeatable in combat.

From his lying position, Gallono managed to say seven more words.  “This was part of his plan too.”

Tomal exploded with rage.  He leapt down from his saddle, grabbed a sword from the nearest soldier and stabbed Gallono through the chest.  He didn’t feel much better after administering the death blow, but at least his tormenter was finally silent.  Tomal ran back to his horse, jumped back into the saddle and headed for the senate house with every ounce of speed he could beat out of his poor mount.

He yelled incoherently as he charged down the narrow streets of Rome, partially to warn those ahead to get out of the way, but mostly to vent his anger.  How could he not see it coming?

Tomal chastised himself for letting his emotions get the best of him yet again.  His hatred of Gallono led to the riots, which resulted in Caesar returning to Rome.  Tomal’s pride and need to best Gallono led him to only focus on defeating the gladiator army, not keeping an eye on the big picture.

Tomal grew impatient with
his nag’s pace and kicked at its ribs with all his might.  He prayed he was not too late.

“
My army drenched
the soil of Africa with their sweat and blood fighting to propel their beloved Republic into greatness,” Caesar yelled while standing in the middle of the senate floor.  His booming voice carried up the stadium seating as his angry words rattled around the half-moon shaped chamber.  “Meanwhile, the supposed leaders of this Republic sit on their collective asses allowing everything my armies fight and die for to descend into chaos.”

A low
rumble floated about the chamber as every man in the room took offense to the rebuke.  Hastelloy made the bold move to stand and deliver a challenge to Caesar’s charge.  “The fault lies with you, Caesar.”

All
private conversation came to an abrupt halt with the daring statement.  Every eye turned and focused on Hastelloy and his challenge to the undisputed ruler of Rome.

Hastelloy wasted no time pressing his point.  “It was the Prefect you hand selected to r
un this city who failed every citizen of Rome with his incompetence.”

Nearly everyone in the room nodded their head in agreement and a few lent the
ir verbal support by shouting, “He speaks the truth.”

“
That fool’s actions incited the people to riot,” Hastelloy continued. “Then the coward locked himself away with a house full of booze and whores to let the city tear itself apart.  The senate’s hands were tied by the Prefect’s decrees so we could do nothing to set things right.  You might know this if you had been here at any point during the last few years.”

Caesar put up his hands to silence the chamber. 
Slowly he looked around the room to emphasize his position of dominance.  “As I look about this chamber I see many new faces.  The fact that I know so few of you now leads me to believe there is truth in your statement, Senator Brutus.  I have been away too long.  The people needed the presence of strong leadership, and they rebelled in its absence.

“This does not excuse the fact that this rebellion occurred under your watch.”  Caesar paused to let the weight of his words land on the collection of strangers in front of him.  The omnipresent threat of two dozen armed
soldiers around the senate chamber gave him the confidence to press his agenda. “The inaction of this governing body leads me to only one conclusion.  The Senate is no longer capable of leading the Roman Republic.  A single ruler is required to restore order.”

“
Who might that single ruler be I wonder?” Hastelloy asked as he descended a set of steps and walked out onto the speaking floor that Caesar occupied. “Certainly not the Prefect you chose.  Are we to anoint you as the King of Rome perhaps?  You, the man who appointed the most incompetent leader of our generation to rule this city.  You’ll excuse us if we don’t leap at the chance to hand all power over considering your less than stellar track record in decision making.”  

“Enough,” Caesar shouted
and then stepped in front of Hastelloy, blocking his path to the center of the speaking floor.  “Senator Brutus, I have the floor, therefore you are out of order.  Please return to your seat.”

When Hastelloy did not
immediately comply, Caesar made a gesture to his guards, and every soldier around the room drew his blade.  “Do I need to force the issue?”

Hastelloy took one last step forward to bring his nose six inches away from Caesar’s and said so
ftly, “Oh yes, force is definitely required today.”

“Guards,” Caesar shouted.  “Show Senator Brutus to the accommodations we have for men
of his ilk.”

Hastelloy turned around to see every guard around the senate chamber stepping in among the men who occupied the
senate seats – exactly as he planned.  Hastelloy gave a curt nod to his men in the back row.  They all stood and drew daggers from the folds of their togas with the practiced hand of veteran assassins.

Seconds later, every soldier Caesar relied upon for prote
ction in the senate chamber was dead.  Their bodies strewn about the senate seats and steps staining the white marble red as the assassins made their way to the speaking floor and surrounded Caesar.  Those in the chamber who were actually elected officials ran for their lives to escape the carnage.

Hastelloy pulled
his own dagger from under his toga and turned to face Caesar once more.  The great man made no effort to run or resist those intent on doing him harm.

“
I fear nothing,” Caesar said as he defiantly looked Hastelloy in the eyes.  “Jupiter assures me that death is only the beginning.”

“
Not for you, and not today,” Hastelloy responded and then thrust his dagger into Caesar’s chest.

The would be dictator staggered backwards
into the middle of the assassin’s circle.  He calmly surveyed those around him while the dagger protruded from his chest.  Without a sound he pulled the excess folds of his toga over his head and resigned to the fate he faced.  The man met his dignified end in silence as dozens of blades pierced his flesh.

Finally
, Caesar’s lifeless body collapsed to the marble floor of the senate.  The pure white fabric he wore was now shredded and almost completely crimson in color.  Time stood still as Hastelloy looked upon the culmination of his plotting.  The excitement of his success was nearly overtaken by the tragedy of the moment. 

For Hastelloy, k
illing someone to avenge a wrong was righteous.  Killing someone in the heat of combat was necessary.  Murdering an unarmed individual standing directly in front of him was - disturbing.  It wasn’t like swatting a pesky fly, it was personal.

Hastelloy’s moment of introspection came to a premature halt when he heard the thunde
rclap of horse hooves approach from his left.  He turned his head toward the main entrance of the senate house in time to watch Tomal enter the chamber still riding his mount.  The intimidating sight of a war horse entering a relatively confined space caused the men gathered around Caesar’s body to scatter.  As they moved, the sight of Hastelloy standing over the bloody remains came into Tomal’s line of sight.

“No!” Tomal shouted
and leapt down to cradle Caesar’s body in his arms.

Hastelloy gestured for his
paid assassins to leave.  Many of them looked ready to take matters into their own hands and kill Tomal as well, but Hastelloy would have none of it. 

“
The situation here is under control,” he said with a stern voice.  “Go to your assigned legions around the city and make sure they’re in position to deal with the fallout.”  With that the chamber was emptied in good order leaving Hastelloy alone with Tomal.

Tomal
released Caesar’s body to rest once more on the floor.  He bolted to his feet and charged Hastelloy with a flurry of kicks and punches.  Hastelloy parried each blow while conceding ground until his back heel hit the first row of marble seats.

No longer able to defensively gi
ve ground, Hastelloy seized the initiative.  Tomal’s next punch came from the left side aiming for Hastelloy’s nose.  He deflected the blow to the side and twirled his body around until his sweeping right leg connected with the back of Tomal’s knees and took the man clean off his feet.

Tomal landed flat on his back.  Before he could move to
correct his vulnerable position Hastelloy forced Tomal onto his stomach, pinned both hands behind his back, and then buried a knee square between his shoulder blades.

“You murdering bastard,” Tomal managed to
grunt from under Hastelloy’s weight.  “You lured him here, pulled me out of the way, and then you killed him.”

“Tha
t’s right.  I killed the biggest threat to our mission here on this planet,” Hastelloy fired back.

“Our mission is to get off this rock as soon as possible and return home with the Nexus,” Tomal protested.  “Without
Caesar’s leadership, these people will slide backwards.  Maybe all the way back to the stone age, where they would be without our intervention in the first place.”

“Not true,” Hastelloy said while fighting to keep Tomal under his control.  “Who is next in line?”

The question caused Tomal’s jerks and convulsions to subside while he contemplated what Hastelloy was implying.

“If you
get your anger under control for a moment you’ll see the value in Caesar’s death,” Hastelloy continued.  “Caesar was a puppet of the Alpha.  Now the leadership of this Republic will fall to someone who supports our mission, not theirs.”

“I don’t believe that for a single second,” Tomal protested.  “Caesar was no agent of the Alpha.”

“What you believe is irrelevant,” Hastelloy interrupted as he slowly got off Tomal’s back and stood up.  “The deed is done.  The only question now is where you go from here to advance your position; our position?”

Though freed from Hastelloy’s pin, Tomal remained on the marble floor for several seconds.  Finally
, he pushed his upper body off the ground and snapped his legs underneath his torso and slowly rose to his full height and squared off to face Hastelloy.

“Caesar amended his will after I helped him defeat Pompey in Macedonia,” Tomal said with a
sly grin that only a wolf in a hen house could hope to match.  “He hasn’t changed it since returning to Rome.  There is no doubt I will be named his heir.”

“Good,” Hastelloy said.  “Now take that line of thinking a step farther.  How does that information reach the people
so no one will question the validity of the claim?”

Tomal gave the matter some thought before delivering his plan.  “
I’ll host a funeral in his honor.  Here, in the forum atop the senate house steps.  I’ll give a eulogy during which the Vestal Virgins shall deliver Caesar’s unopened will to me, and I’ll read it aloud for all to bear witness.

“The entire city is sure to turn out,” Tomal continued.  “I doubt the forum will even be able to hold everyone wishing to pay their respects to the greatest man
who ever lived.”

Hastelloy shot Tomal a disapproving stare.  “Statements like that wi
ll only incite more riots.  I will speak first to lay out the case why Caesar was dangerous.  You will follow by paying tribute to his better virtues and give the people closure.”

Tomal glanced at Caesar’s body once more, closed his eyes and turned away. 
A tear leaked out the corners of his pinched eyes before they sprung open once more revealing eyes full of purpose and determination.  “You murdered the best man I’ve ever known, a man I regarded as a brother.”

Tomal’s emotions got the better of him
causing his voice to choke up.  After a long pause he continued.  “I will play my part and go along with your plan because in the end it benefits me, but know this.  You have wronged me in a way I cannot forgive, or forget, and there will be a reckoning.”

Hastelloy softened his executive stare and lowered his head slightly.  “I know.” 
He then turned his head slightly cockeyed and raised an accusing eyebrow.  “In the spirit of that statement, what have you done with the best man I have ever known – Gallono?”

“His rebellion came to a fatal conclusion,” Tomal said in a dark tone. 
A devilish grin crossed his lips as he continued.  “I personally sent the unbeatable warrior back to the Nexus.”

“
You will want to wipe that smile off your face, Lieutenant.  Killing a superior officer carries severe consequences.”

As with every time Hastelloy told one of his children to
‘wipe that smile off their face,’ Tomal’s grin instantly spread from ear to ear.  Hastelloy wanted nothing more than to punch his subordinate in the jaw, but he was attempting to enlist his cooperation so he suppressed the urge. 

Instead
Hastelloy settled for the next best thing.  “Fortunately, it bears no consequence this time since I needed Gallono back in Egypt to make sure the Nexus remained hidden.  I knew I could count on your help to save Gallono the trouble of making a thousand mile journey to the west.  Thanks to you, he will emerge from the regeneration chamber and be there already.”

Th
e statement did the trick as Tomal’s sickening smirk morphed to a scowl with the realization that his actions inadvertently furthered Hastelloy’s plans.

“Now, I believe you have a speech to write and I have a rebelling city to
subdue,” Hastelloy said as he headed for the exit.  Tomal grabbed the reins of his horse and led the animal out on foot. 

“Controlling this city may be harder than you think,” Tomal said under his breath and then left Caesar’s bloody remains alone in the middle of the senate floor.

**********

Dr. Holmes had long since stopped taking notes when Hastelloy revealed he was the assassin of Julius Caesar.  He felt the pencil in his hand slipping from his grasp, but couldn’t summon his faculties enough to catch it.  The writing utensil
fell to the floor with a soft clank that disturbed the barren silence between the two men.

Jeffrey wasn’t quite sure why the patient’s claim was so shocking; after all, just last week Hastelloy said he helped build the Great Pyramid and led the slave exodus from Egypt. Why should his claim to have carried out the most famous murder in all recorded history come as a surprise, it was quickly becoming par for the course?  It also provided Dr. Holmes with an opportunity to help the patient.