To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II) (64 page)

I looked at Helena again.  “Figures.”

“You had a lot of pseudo-science in there,” Artie continued, “and don’t get me started on your claims of ‘magic.’  You can’t even imagine the laughs that got from the scientific think tank assigned to figure out your story.”

“That hardly seems fair,” I snapped in annoyance.  “Those dorks are probably just compensating for all that time playing they’re little games about fairies and dragons.  Losers…”

“Jacob, don’t pretend like you’ve never played those as a kid…”

“As a
kid!”  I quickly defended, glancing at, but not quite making eye contact with Helena.  “I grew out of that like forever ago.”

Artie glanced at Helena.

“He’s the worst bluffer on the planet.  It’s always so easy to tell when he’s lying.  He hates the word, ‘like,’ but uses it constantly when he knows he’s wrong.”

I saw Helena looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t dare turn to look.

This is a nightmare.  Sister and girlfriend in the same room together?  God help me.

“No offense,” Archer interrupted, “but I can do without this little family reunion.  I need to check on my
men.”

“Wait, Archer, quick question,” I called before he could leave.  Of all the questions I could think of, oddly, there was only on my mind.  “Where’s that Balisong knife I gave you a few years ago?”

He cocked his head to the side quizzically.  “What’s a Balisong knife?”

I gulped.  “Also known as a butterfly knife…”

“Oh, right,” he said, pulling out a very familiar looking object from his pocket, flipping it open.  “You mean a Xenophon knife.”

My head dropped to my chest
before I snapped it back up, turning it towards Helena.  “That fucking kid.”

“I told you
,” she said, patting my hand.

Archer pointed at me, his face in a state of shock.  “Wait a second… Xenophon Knives have one of the most mysterious origins out
there.  More so than Stonehenge or even the Bermuda Triangle.  Legends go that it was designed by a child from Greece.  They said it was impossible because it was made in a way and with materials that couldn’t be replicated for another two thousand years.  The National History Museum in London still has the original one on display.  No one understands it…” he paused.  “Don’t tell me it was you!”

I shrugged.  “Maybe…”

He grasped the side of his head with his hands and laughed.  “I can’t believe it!  I’ve discovered one of the world’s most unexplainable mysteries, and of all explanations, it was you who caused it!  Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Still laughing to himself, and without offering any further ado, Archer threw his hands in the air,
turned on his heels, and left.

Both Artie and I watched him go.

“There’s a history there with you three, isn’t there?”  Helena asked.

Artie turned to face her, lowering her arms as she moved to stand in front of me.  “You have no idea.”
  She stared at me for a few seconds, her eyes typically unreadable, before she punched me in the arm on my good side.

“Ow!”  I barked.  “What the hell was that for?”

She started punching me again, each of her next words accompanied by the jab of her fist.

“That’s
.  For.  Scaring.  Me.  Half .  To.  Death!”  She finished with an excessively hard slug.

“Stop it,” I whined.  “I’m wounded.”

“Don’t give me, ‘wounded.’  Mom never wanted you to join the service in the first place, and now I know why!  Look at where we are!  I mean… you hate dad, why’d you even sign up?”

“Seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” I reasoned with a shrug.

She punched me again.  “That’s not an answer.”

Helena leaned forward and smiled.  “I like her.”

I groaned.  It was bad enough Helena and Madrina were friends.  This was a hundred times worse.

Artie turned to face her, looking at her as if legitimately noticing her for the very first time.  After
basically
checking
Helena out, scanning her from head to toe, Artie smiled and moved in to give her a very sisterly hug.  Any stranger would think they’d known each other for years.

Artie could be like that.  She’d always been the kind of person, even as an eight years old, to have no problem walking up to a c
omplete stranger and saying “hi.”  I never understood it, but at least as she got older, she matured when it came to putting herself out there like that.

I hadn’t needed to worry about he
r much once I’d become a SEAL.

Having SEALs for a brother and boyfriend had served her well.  She was fully capable of defending he
rself.  She didn’t have the natural pent up rage Helena had but she was feisty all the same.

“So, you must be Helena,” Artie said, still holding her tightly.

I looked at Helena.  Her face was as nervous and awkward as I’ve ever seen it.  She wasn’t used to this kind of personal affection from anybody but me either.  Even a friend as close as Santino had rarely ever offered her a hug, but then again, hugs weren’t really his cup of tea.  She patted Artie on the shoulder embarrassedly and looked at me uncomfortably.

Artie pulled back
and held Helena out at arm’s length, analyzing her.

“I must say, Jacob,” she said, glancing at me.  “Good job.  She’s way
prettier than I thought.”

Helena blushed and looked away.  She looked no better than she had a few months ago prior to the operation where we rescued
that young Roman girl, Julia.

Artie noticed her bashfulness.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” she reassured.  “I’m just surprised to find someone who actually sees something in Jacob, let alone a hottie like you.  Did you know that he never, not once, brought a girl home to meet mom and dad?”

Helena looked at me, astonished.  “Really?”

“Oh, and you did?”

“My situation was a bit different.”

“I said you weren’t allowed to use that excuse anymore.”

“Since when do I listen to you?”

Artie smiled at the interchange.  “It’s hard to imagine you’ve known each other for so long, when for me, Jacob’s only been gone a month.  But after listening to you two it’s not that hard.”

“Tell me about it,” I joked.  “You should have seen her ten months ago when she was ready to dump me.”

“Me?!”  Helena yelled.  “You were the one who wouldn’t talk to me
six
months ago.”

We glared at each other, but they were loving glares.

“And you’re pregnant!”  Artie exclaimed loudly, performing the Ms. America fanning motion.  “Congratulations!  I’m going to be an aunt!”

“Shut up!”  I said as loud as I could
but still under my breath, while Helena shushed her as well.  “Nobody knows yet.”

“You haven’t told anybody?”  Artie asked.

“I just found out two days ago,” I said with a shrug.

She ignored me
and turned towards Helena.  “So, tell me, what are you…”

I shook my head and tried to focus on anything else
besides the two women and their baby talk. 

I was saved by Archer returning with one of his men who
held some kind of bag in his hand.  The man had short cropped brown hair, faded along the sides and back.  Along with blue eyes and reddish hued facial hair, little more than stubble, he was a pretty decent looking guy.  He also carried an M14 rifle, with a large scope on it.  The M14 was a rifle rich in history and had still been used even in my original timeline, but its glory days had been far in the past.  I had to assume this guy was a sniper, but along with their outdated uniforms and rigs, his use of an M14 only enforced my fears that the timeline had definitely been altered

And
not for the better.

“Hunter, this is Gunnery Sergeant Alex Cuyler, US Army Special Forces.  Sniper.”

“Gunny,” I greeted with a nod, receiving a salute in return.

“Lieutenant,” he said.

I blinked.  Oh, right.  I was a lieutenant.  I almost forgot.

“We found multiple heads amongst the rubble,” he reporte
d.  “Each is pretty messed up, but your teammates think this is your friend.  It’s… so mangled they couldn’t be sure.  They said you’d be the best person to identify him.”

I sighed and glanced at Helena.  Artie cut off their conversation and gave us some space
.  Helena picked up my hand.

“I’m ready.”

Cuyler took a breath and unfolded the piece of cloth carefully.  Peeling away the last of the blood soaked layers, he revealed a mangled and bruised face.  The lower half of the jaw had been torn away, and the rest of the face was so cut up, even though I saw Varus’ telling grey eyes, it was still hard to identify.

I
looked away and motioned for him to close it up.

“Did you find the body?”  I asked.

“We believe so.  It was the only one not wearing any kind of armor.”

“Thanks, Gunny,” I said softly.

“We also found this hidden behind a sash he wore around his waist,” Sergeant Cuyler said as he held out a piece of rolled up papyrus that had been flattened.  “We don’t know what it says.”

I accepted it, turning it over in my hand until I saw writing over the seal.  Scrawled there in neat little letters was my name, spelled as
Iakob
.

“It’s my name,” I pointed out.  “It’s in Latin.”  I sighed.  “Did you find anything else?”

“No, sir.”

I nodded morbidly
and he saluted and left to tend to the body.

“Were you two close?”  Archer asked.

I wasn’t sure how to reply to that.  We really hadn’t been overly close.  We’d been friends, sure, but hardly BFFs.  I batted the piece of papyrus into my empty hand a few times, wondering if I should open it.

I needed answers to all the things I’d experienced tonight.  Answer
s to how exactly the orb worked and how I’d used it only an hour ago.  Answers to Agrippina and how she seemed to know so much.  I wanted those answers now more than ever, and while Varus’ note may have the ones I sought, we had more pressing matters to deal with.  I passed it to Helena, who tucked it away in a pouch.

I’ll read it later.

“Yeah,” I replied.  “We were.”

Archer pursed his lips and glanced at Artie.  She wasn’t paying him any attention.

I tried to push Varus from my mind.  I didn’t have time to grieve.  Now that we found him, we should get out of here.  I started to rise when a loud shout from Santino nearly dropped me back to my seat.

“Jacob!  Get over here
!  You really need to see this.  Bring your pal, the clown.”

I mumbled under my breath and allowed Helena to help me to my feet.  Archer and Artie followed behind us.

“Santino,” I said as I approached him, “I swear to God, if you ever say I really need to see something ever again, I’m not going to be responsible for what I let Helena do to you.”

Wang, Vincent, the Romans, the new time travelers, and Santino stood near a bombed out corner of the building, open to the rest of the world.  They were all looking through the hole, past the knocked over perimeter wall, towards the north.  Those who had optical devices had them trained outside, while Santino turned to face me, anything but a happy expression on his face.

“Now’s not the time, Hunter,” he said.  “Although, I do feel obligated to mention that Hunter and Archer are eerily similar names.”

I looked at my former friend, and watched him roll his eyes, mumbling under his breath.

“So, what’s the problem?”

“
The problem?”  Santino repeated angrily.  “Just look out the fucking window.”

I held m
y gaze on him for a few seconds before slowly shifting my look in the general direction of his outstretched arm.  What I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Laid out before us were men.  Soldiers.  Legionnaires.  Praetorians.  Thousands of them.

Aw, shit.

My mind started processing the information as quickly as it could, which wasn’t anywhere near efficient enough.  Even with Archer’s reinforcements and additional supplies, we wouldn’t be able to put up a suitable defense.  Those of us who’d been in Rome more than thirty minutes were weary after the clo
se call we’d had with Agrippina and it was amazing how much traveling through the orb weakened a person.  Archer’s men weren’t showing signs of fatigue yet, but having been there, I knew it was only a matter of time.

I turned to look at
Archer.  “Just how many chapters were in my journal, anyway?”

He met my eyes.  “Twelve.  Why?”

“Because I’ve already written eleven… and I’m suddenly feeling the urge to write another.”

Archer motioned for his men to fall in.  “Get ready to move out!”  He shouted.  “Get the crates and the body bag, but be prepared to stop and offer cover fire.  We’re heading south.”