Hero of Rome

Titus

For the second time in his second life, Titus flew over the seemingly endless ocean. This time, instead of traveling on Umbra’s back, he flew on top of the giant spirit eagle that Logan had summoned for aid.

Logan didn’t speak to him as they flew. The man had grown more quiet the further they went out to sea, only breaking the silence with a terrible cough. Titus feared what that meant.

He was grateful Logan had agreed to ferry him back to Rome. Logan promised him anything in return for defeating the Kanontsistóntie.

A dark storm cloaked Rome as its shores came within view on the horizon. Titus felt both relief and worry upon seeing it. He would have to be careful now that he returned. If he showed his face, he would be leaving his life entirely in the hands of Caesar again, and that he could not do. Caesar, he concluded, could not be trusted. His mission was simple: find Livia, Cleopatra, and Decimus, and flee. They couldn’t all fit on Umbra’s back. Perhaps Logan could aid in this? Titus hadn’t pressed him on the issue yet. He grew even more reluctant as Logan’s coughing became more severe on their journey. By the time they landed on the racing grounds of the deserted Circus Maximus, Logan’s coughing fits extended for several minutes at a time. Logan’s spirit eagle made frequent worried glances.

“I’ll be okay,” he said, patting its spiritual head as Titus dismounted. A light rain had picked up and had quickly drenched them.

“I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me,” Titus said, walking in front of Logan to see him face to face. All such worries about Logan’s conditions were confirmed when he looked upon him in the rain. Logan’s entire face and visible skin on his arms were covered in smallpox. The man looked horrid, like he was close to Pluto’s shadow, or whichever god handled death for the Iroquois.

Logan closed his eyes as he nodded. “It was the least I could do, Thunderman,” he said before launching into another coughing fit. “My time in this second life has come to an end. I will be joining my father soon in the spirit world.”

“Strength and honor, Logan.”

“As to you.” Logan whispered something into the eagle’s ears, making the spirit moan with sadness. “Be sure to avenge my people, Thunderman. Perhaps then there can be peace between our two worlds.”

“Logan?” Titus asked before the native could fly away, presumably to end his life.

“Yes?”

“I know this is too much to ask, but I will ask it anyway. I plan to free my wife and several others from the one who betrayed me. This man we fight against is powerful beyond what I can describe. I will need assistance, if you are willing.”

Logan closed his eyes, as if he wanted nothing but rest. It pained Titus to ask this additional request, but he knew it would be nearly impossible without him.

“This will be the last I can do,” Logan whispered.

Relief flooded Titus. “Thank you, friend. I will be back here shortly.”

“Do not tarry, for my life might end before then. We will stay in the clouds to watch over you.”

Titus pulled out his metal figurine of Vulcan and made a quick prayer to his patron god, thanking him for his protection, provision, and for guidance in the upcoming challenge. When he finished, he tucked away the token, took a deep breath, and started jogging towards the arena gate, leaving the native and the spirit eagle behind.

The Circus Maximus was next to the palace where his friends resided. It wouldn’t take him very long to reach it..

However, it was going to be a long night.

“Come in,” Caesar said.

Cleopatra, dressed in a revealing white silk dress, pushed open Caesar’s bedroom door. The light rain could be seen and heard just outside his many windows. Caesar, who lay on his fine sheets wearing only a subligaculum, widened his eyes in surprise at his guest, and then, as she expected, in desire.

“Well, Cleopatra, I did not presume to see you at such an hour,” he said, rising from the bed to greet her. “I would have dressed more appropriately.”

“No need,” Cleopatra said, placing her hand on Caesar’s hairy, rather impressive chest. She could feel his heart beating in excitement as she turned him away from the door, where Sporus slipped in unannounced after invisibly sneaking past Caesar’s Praetorian Guards.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he said, a soft growl in his voice.

Cleopatra smiled. She knew her blessing of Venus would make him bend around her finger. Only, she prayed Cupid would not shoot her with an arrow of unbreakable desire for her enemy, which had happened with Elagabalus unfortunately. She still had conflictions about the affairs with him, both enjoying and despising the memories of his rose petal parties.

“I have been very lonely,” she said, pushing him onto his bed. “I have also been very worried, Caesar, about my future.”

“How so?” he said, placing his hands on her thighs, squeezing her skin. There was no doubt her charisma was working excellently.

Tears started to flow down her face. These were genuine. “I am a widow, my lord. A pregnant widow. Maximus’s sons grow within me, but I know I am of no use to you. I worry for them, my lord.”

She placed her hands on his legs as she spoke and leaned in close to his face, knowing he, like so many men before whom she had used, would be distracted from what was really occurring. She just prayed that Sporus would find Umbra’s key before Caesar took advantage of her.

“If you are willing, you can become Caesar’s wife,” he whispered, before his lips smashed against hers. “I can protect you, make you safe,” he said in between kisses.

Caesar was lost in lust. He was hers.

Cleopatra was not surprised as she entertained Caesar, being very careful not to let it go too far. She only needed him to be distracted. Her body and her soul belonged to Maximus. She would not give Caesar the satisfaction of her flesh.

Caesar laid her on the bed, his breath hot against her face as his hands worked to expose her. The sight of the golden Friendship Key dangling in the air for a brief moment was the sign she needed. It had almost been too late.

Cleopatra, thanks to an herbal remedy she knew how to make for such occasions, swallowed the plant at the back of her throat which she had kept hidden. Immediately she began to violently vomit.

Caesar jumped away from her, surprised by the sudden turn of events. He would not notice Sporus slipping away.

“Forgive me, Caesar,” she said, puking into his chamberpot. “It is the pregnancy.”

“Do not worry, darling,” he said, patting her back. “Get some rest. I will call upon you soon so we can resume.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling as she left. Caesar had not gotten to use her as he wanted. But Cleopatra had gotten the key they needed to escape.

To her surprise, Valerius approached Caesar’s room with joy beaming on his thin face. In his hands was an orange vial. When seeing Cleopatra, he blushed and bowed out of respect.

“Caesar!” he said. “I have something for you!”

Panic sank into her heart. Now was time to run.

Titus knew the old man would be at his forge, even in the rain. Decimus liked to stay up long into the night, much like Titus. They had spent so much time together since meeting at Bulla Felix’s hideout many months ago. The large and burly blacksmith was eager to take him under his wing when Titus showed him what he could do. In many ways, through his silent stoicism and approval, he had become a father to Titus.

And now his life was in grave danger.

Titus didn’t know exactly when Decimus and the others would be taken out, or if. However, it was safe to assume that Caesar would suffer no opponents in his game of power.

It was fairly easy to avoid suspicion as he made his way to Decimus’s private quarters and forge in the palace. Titus simply smeared coal over his face, ruffled his rain-soaked hair, and snatched some wet firewood from a nearby pier to take to Decimus. When he was stopped by a Praetorian on the outskirts of the palace, he showed him the wood.

“Master Decimus is working late again,” Titus said, lowering his voice and straining it so he sounded tired and annoyed. “I’ve got to find a way to dry this.”

“As you are, then,” the guard said, also sounding over the night shift.

Once inside the palace, Titus made way for Decimus’s forge since it was closest. He could hear the familiar banging of metal well before he reached it. If he had to guess, it sounded like he was forging a sword, for it—

Wait, he thought, panic swelling within.

A shout of agony filled the hall for a second, only to become quickly muffled.

Decimus!

Titus tossed the wood, brandishing his warhammer as he burst through the courtyard opening and onto the grisly scene. Three Praetorian Guards stood over a dying Decimus. One of them ripped out a bloody gladius from the blacksmith’s belly, causing Decimus to shudder.

The three guards couldn’t see him yet. Neither would they see the incoming doom that they had brought upon themselves.

“We did it,” Cleopatra whispered as they got back to her room, beaming with joy in seeing Sporus wielding the Friendship Key next to her.

“We need to get Decimus,” Livia said as Umbra magically appeared. He shook his head, as if woken up. “And Aelia.”

“There’s not enough time,” Sporus said. “Umbra can’t carry that many. Besides, Caesar knows we stole it.”

Cleopatra frowned. “How do you—”

Sporus plucked an arrow from the shadows and shot it right next to Cleopatra. She would have thought he was going crazy if not for the blood that burst out of thin air, followed by an assassin appearing before them that fell over dead.

“Get on Umbra now!” Sporus yelled, all stealthiness gone as he shoved the Friendship Key in her hand. “Now!”

Sporus fired more shadow arrows with his dark bow into the air behind her. She had no time to look. Livia leapt onto Umbra’s back first and helped her to scramble onto the Pegasus.

More assassins fell to their deaths and became visible as Sporus, cloaked in invisibility, fired from the shadows.

“I’ll hold them off,” Sporus shouted. Dozens of Praetorian Guards were pouring through the room’s archway. “Go! I will stop him from getting the orb.”

That was all the encouragement Umbra needed. The ashy Pegasus shot off from the room’s courtyard exit and dashed into the sky. Several arrows whistled past them as they left behind Sporus.

“We can’t leave him!” Cleopatra said. Livia turned around and looked at her with compassion. As horrible as it felt to leave him behind, she knew there was no going back.

Lightning exploded from the approaching clouds, almost striking them. All three of them turned around to see a dark figure fly upwards along the lightning before disappearing above them.

Where’d he go? Umbra said, his inner voice shaking with fear.

“We need to clear this storm!” Livia said. “A Jupiter-blessed is after us!”

Cleopatra felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Of course Caesar would know she tricked him. He was probably already planning on having her wiped out before he gained access to the Orb of Morpheus. Then, he wouldn’t have any need of pretending, unless he wanted her for his more carnal interests.

So she wasn’t surprised when the Jupiter-blessed Praetorian Guard dropped through the stormy clouds with his hand raised high. In the blink of an eye, a lightning bolt shot through his hand and into Umbra, sending the three of them plummeting.

Titus had no time to grieve his friend as he stood over the three soldiers and the blacksmith. He could hear shouting through the storm.

That was Livia!

The rage he felt for seeing his mentor slaughtered reached new heights when he heard his beloved’s cry. This fury propelled him through the halls, where he swatted anyone who got in his way. He decided to take the courtyard route, fearing Livia and the others were being swarmed in the palace itself. Lightning shook the building, feeling very close to the palace. He emerged into the courtyard bordering Maximus’s room, his greatest fears confirmed.

Sporus of all people was dangling from the grip of a Praetorian Guard, while the four others nursed their wounds.

There was no time for asking any questions. Titus charged with his remaining stamina, screaming for Logan’s aid to the heavens while chucking a nearby flower vase at the closest guard. The one strangling Sporus was too slow to throw away the young man, for Titus cleared the gap between them and his magnetic warhammer pulled him the rest of the way to the guard’s face, sending the man flying into the others. The blow and the power from his warhammer was so powerful that it disarmed and disoriented the three guards who writhed in pain amongst a host of their slain brethren around them.

“Titus!” Sporus struggled to say, rubbing his throat. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his dark bow, firing off another arrow in the man Titus had knocked out with the vase.

“Where are they?” Titus said, slamming his warhammer into a guard who tried to rise. More were coming down the hall. They would be overwhelmed in moments.

“They’re safe on Umbra and just left! We need to get to Mount Vesuvius now, before it’s too late.”

Titus could only guess what Caesar intended.

Logan’s spirit eagle screeched through the storm, catching Sporus and the incoming guards by surprise. Titus wrapped his arms around Sporus and braced himself.

“Hold on!” he yelled as they were plucked from the ground and launched to the storm above.