To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II) (36 page)

BOOK: To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II)
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“What about the other
one?”  Vincent asked.

“That,” I said, “is the other reason we can’t go home yet.  Agrippina has it, and while we’ve caused enough trouble on our own, there’s no telling what kind of damage
she could do with it if she ever figured out how to operate it.”

Gaius, Marcus, Titus, and Madrina all look
ed confused, but the rest understood.

“So what are we to do with it?”  Bordeaux asked.

“Well, big guy, today’s your lucky day,” I said as a confused look spread across his face, “because you get to blow something up.”

 

***

 

Unfortunately for Bordeaux, it took another few days before he could act on my promise to let him blow anything up.  He’d already been out of his seat and rifling through his bag for explosives when an insistent knock had sounded from our door.  It had been four in the morning, but despite tired and drooping eyelids all around, the entire room sprang into motion at the interruption.

Hands went to rifles or swords, chairs were abandoned and strategic positions were taken to best defend the room.  I’d been the last to find cover, of course, so I had the unpleasant duty of answering the door, which I did
very carefully, half expecting one of Agrippina’s ninjas to be standing there selling girl scout cookies or something.

It turned out to be no
more than a few of the prostitutes infesting our building.  They’d seen the constant flow of men into the room earlier, and had recruited a force of eight to try and infiltrate our lines and make some serious money.  I tried not to look directly at them as they crowded around my door.  Most were hideously ugly, and I could feel the venereal diseases trying to claw their way towards me from across the hall, and I just prayed they didn’t rush me.

I politely told them to get the hell away from us and
slammed the door shut.  That had been enough excitement for one night.  We packed up the orb and turned in.  Helena offered Bordeaux and Madrina our room.  Even though it offered little in creature comfort, it was the only private space we had.  Helena figured Madrina, at least, would appreciate the room while I only hoped the abnormally large couple fit on the bed.

The rest of us conked out in the main room.  Santino took the bed, claiming it had been his all along so there was no need to give it up now.  The rest of us laid ourselves out on the floor, using as many pillows and blankets as Wang and Santino could pilfer from neighboring rooms.  Helena and I flipped our table on its side and pushed it parallel to the back wall, creating a basic barrier between us and everyone else.  We didn’t plan on doing anything frisky, but the added shelter was nice.  I’d had worse accommodations over the years, my mind wandering back to the few months I’d spent in Mexico
agai, when my men and I would find our way to a random forward operating base and spend the night with one Army unit or another.

Not the most ideal of living conditions.

The rest of the guys spread out as best they could, but had about as much room as sardines in a can.  Helena and I were comfortable, but with that many men in one room, the collective snoring kept me awake until sunrise.  Helena had been out as soon as her head hit my chest, and had slept like a rock.  Hours later, she didn’t so much as mumble in her sleep when I pushed her off me, frustrated I couldn’t join everyone else in sleep’s soothing embraces.

At least
Helena didn’t snore, even though I always joked that she did.

So, when I noticed the first wisps of dawn peak in through the window, I decided then would be as good a time as any to adhere to my annual tradition of watching the sun rise.  I hadn’t missed a year since I started doing it in high school, but something about this one seemed like it would be special. 

I climbed out through our window and up to the roof.  Our building was situated perfectly for a wonderful view of the Propontis, and I sat there and watched as the sun rose from the watery depths to claw its way into the sky.  With no trees, buildings, or other obstructions, I almost understood how ancient man could believe the sun was nothing more than Apollo racing his chariot across the sky on its day long journey.

I let the sun warm my face for a few minutes, relishing
in the peace, quiet and tranquility the early hour offered.  I felt calm, allowing the only negative thought in my mind to consist of the fact that this moment wouldn’t last forever.  I let everything else fall away, basking in the glow of blissful ignorance, but as soon as the sun sat above the water line, its mirror reflection beneath it, I snuck back into our room.

I slipped into the little cubbyhole I shared with Helena, a smile on my face.  I pulled her dozing form in close and fell asleep.  Three hours later, my smile was gone when Bordeaux walked in from his room, cheery and happy after a good night’s sleep.  The rest of us weren’t quite so receptive and took a moment to throw pillows and blankets at him for being so fucking happy, so early in the
goddamn morning, while Helena slept on uninterrupted.  Wang even threw his pistol at him, but the large Frenchman simply caught it in midair.  Two hours later, the rest of us woke on our own accord, complaining of stiff backs and sore muscles, all except for Santino, of course.

After one last meat-on-a-stick for breakfast, we prepared to leave.  I wasn’t ready to tell everyone what we were doing quite yet
since my plan was still percolating in my own head, but once our gear was packed and loaded into our wagon, we headed east.  Again.  The only two exceptions were Gaius and Marcus.  They were headed back to the German front so that they could report to Agrippina that we now possessed one of her time traveling toys.  They didn’t fully understand why they were going, and I didn’t blame them.  They said their goodbyes and dutifully left, sad to leave, but completely willing to do their part.

Three days later, we now found ourselves well within Anatolia, modern day Turkey, a mountainous and desolate strip of land with few people and even fewer settlements.  There wasn’t much to look at, except sparsely populated trees and an arid climate that wasn’t quite as barren as the deser
t region that was soon to come.

We set up camp after a grueling third day of travel and turned in for the night.  Once again, I found myself unable to sleep.  Helena laid to my left, sound asleep as she always was, but there was nothing I could do.  Even counting sheep failed.  In a fit of frustration, I slapped my sl
eeping mat next to me, not even feeling bad because I knew it wouldn’t so much as disturb Helena.

Sometimes I really hated her.

But not really.

With no sunrise to watch and no way to rejuvenate my body, I quietly got up and made for the tent’s exit.  With a final glance at Helena, I shook my head.  She always looked so bea
utiful and peaceful when asleep that it was hard to imagine any harm could ever come to her.  My lips tightened at the thought, but I turned and left the tent, suddenly troubled.

Our tents were arranged around a campfire, three modern and two homemade.  A few dozen yards away, Wang was situated in our temporary observation post
/ listening post on overwatch duty for the entire camp.  He controlled Santino’s UAV and could monitor the area around the camp from all directions.  With him on duty, the camp was more than safe.  I could have sought him out for a chat, but seated next to the campfire was Vincent, who was due to take over for Wang in half an hour.

He was warming his remaining hand over the fire, wearing a light fleece jacket and his night op combat fatigue pants.  It was cold tonight, so I had donned a fleece as
well, but only wore a pair of black shorts over my legs.

A shor
t and chilly walk later, I joined Vincent by the fire, nodding my greetings to him.  I sat on a log awaiting its turn in the fire and felt my shins and thighs begin to warm immediately.  We sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, waiting as two patient men could, the quiet lingering for quite some time.  After a while, he took an audible breath and stuffed his hand deep in a pocket and gazed up at the stars.

“Beautiful night,” he commented.

I glanced upwards as well to discover what could indeed only be described as a gorgeous night.

“Yes,” I said vacantly.  “It really is.”

Vincent lowered his eyes to look at me and raised his eyebrows. 

“What is it, Jacob?”  He said, s
ensing my apprehension.  “You’ve never been very good at hiding the fact that you have something on your mind, and it seems four years hasn’t changed that.”

“Really?”  I asked.  “Helena seems to have trouble with it from time to time.”

He chuckled.  “Helena is a very gifted young woman, but I’ve been around quite a bit longer than she has.”

“True,” I admitted, before letting out a long b
reath, closing my teeth with a series of loud clicks, staring into the fire.

After a few s
econds, Vincent laughed again.

“It’s all right,” he said between chuckles.

“I don’t think it is, Vincent,” I said, shaking my head while I wrapped my arms around my knees.  “Helena didn’t tell the whole story back in Byzantium.  There’s more to it.  Much more.”  I paused.  “Bad more.”

Vincent nodded
but remained silent, so I pressed on with everything.

I started with Varus
and our encounter aboard Agrippina’s barge.  Vincent was interested to see the inscription Varus had provided me with, but was unable to make anything of it as well.  It wasn’t something we were equipped to deal with at the moment so I moved on to what happened within Agrippina’s bed chamber.

I told him ab
out my encounter with the orb and about how it enticed me with its presence, beckoning me to use it, steal it, pick it up, something.  I still couldn’t fully explain exactly what it had done to me in that moment, but the memory of how I tortured Agrippina was as fresh as ever.  Vincent sat in silence as I detailed what I had done to her, and said nothing more when I began to close my tale by recounting the things Agrippina had said to me, the things that had planted utter confusion and reticence in my mind.  I completed my story by telling him how I tried to kill her, and how I couldn’t quell the emotional anguish I still felt from it.  Vincent let me grieve for a few minutes, my sobs threatening to rain tears down on our raging fire, but only just quite.

“Have you spoken to Helena about this?” He asked finally when I’d settled down and composed myself.

I found myself staring into the fire as he spoke and I forced myself to meet his eyes.  “Mostly.  Without her…” I paused, unable to find the right words, “…without her, I don’t know where I’d be right now, but she’s the
only
person I’ve been able to talk to about it at all.”

Vincent shifted on his log and removed his hand from his pocket.

“Then why did you feel the need to speak with
me
?”

That was a good question.  I wasn’t sure what I was seeking from Vincent.  He wasn’t my father, in either the religious or paternal sense, but he was the next best thing.  Maybe I sought acceptance or absolution, or maybe I just needed someone else to talk to.  The older man sensed my apprehension and pressed his point.

“You know I am not a priest.  All I can offer you is little more than an ear to listen with.”

“I know, but I thought that maybe…”

“Maybe what, Jacob?  That I’d listen to your sins, make you say a Hail Mary and two Our Fathers, and send you on your way?  Helena is a wonderful, caring, empathetic person.  What can I offer you that she can’t?”

I threw my hands in the air a
nd smacked my knees with them.

“A different perspective, maybe?  Helena is many things, but not exactly impartial when it comes to Agrippina. 
The only reason she’s accepted what I’ve done is because she thinks she’d have done the same thing, but she wouldn’t have.  She isn’t affected by the orb like I am.  No one else is.  I… I could use a little direction here.”

“You’ve been s
econd guessing yourself,” he said matter of factly.  “Hesitating.  Questioning what was once natural instinct.  Am I correct?”

I glanced away again before meeting his eyes.  “I haven’t been sleeping well either, actually.  I don’t know what my problem is.  It’s like my brain just shuts down and refuses to cooperate.  Is that normal?”

This time it was Vincent’s time to stare off into the fire.  “To your last question, I have no answer, but I have seen what you are experiencing before.”  He paused and closed his eyes.  “In me.”

“Sir?” I asked, wondering where he was going with this.

He stood and moved around the fire to sit on a log closer to where I was sitting.  After a few seconds he closed his eyes and said, “Hunter, I’m going to tell you something I haven’t spoken publicly of in almost thirty years.  It happened just after I finished my required tour of duty in Switzerland, and found myself back in my home town of Kloten.”

He stopped again, not a pause, but a complete shutdown of his thoughts.  He worked his jaw, as if he were still contemplating telling me anything.  I began to wonder if he’d renege on his story, but after thirty seco
nds, he finally continued.

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