A horn sounded at the entrance of the camp, announcing their general’s return. Castor Caesar, a Senator and patrician of the Empire, had arrived. The Caesars were a powerful house, their wealth and military prowess rivaled only by the Maridians. Castor, the family’s patriarch, had been sent by Tarquin to join and lead the other generals. The man was cold, much like the morning on which he arrived at his legion’s camp. What blond hair remained on his slowly balding Head was slicked back. Heavy stubble covered his face, his blue eyes pierced men like shards of ice when directed towards them. He rode his horse in a manner that inspired both respect and fear from his soldiers. As Castor’s company trotted through the makeshift alleyways of tents, legionnaires ceased whatever task was at hand and saluted. Castor paid them no mind. He was mulling over the matters that pertained to protecting his family and their seat of power. His party arrived at the General’s quarters, the red canvas lightly moving in the wind. Castor and his guards entered and were greeted with the sight of Marius, the aging Senator’s son. “Leave us.” Castor spoke to his guards bluntly. They bowed, leaving him and Marius to their business. In the tent was a table and chairs along with various pieces of furniture reserved only for the leader of this army. On this table was a golden pitcher and two cups of fine wine, a symbol of the Caesar’s wealth. The father and son sat at the table to discuss the rebellion and how to advance their position. One might have thought Castor was aggravated with son when he took a pen and parchment and began writing. This was, however, merely the man’s demeanor. Marius was accustomed to this behavior, nevertheless it was unpleasant for him. As Castor was writing, he spoke sternly to his son without taking attention away from his manuscript. “Gaius Maridius attacked Liam Gue.” He continued with his work, the sound of a light scratching of the tip of a feather against the parchment reaching his son’s ears. “So I’ve heard.” Marius rapped his fingers against the table lightly. “A soldier seems to be beneath the old man.” The elder paused briefly and looked his son in the eye, “Your jokes are not appreciated.” The writing continued. “We have a frail alliance with the Maridians. We will maintain that alliance...” the tip of the feather was plunged into the inkwell on the table, emerging with the black ink clinging onto it. “Until this rebellion is snuffed out, regardless of their reckless tactics.” He sprinkled some pounce onto the page to dry the ink before blowing away the excess. He took a new piece of parchment. “You will serve as Senator in my stead, while I secure what will be our family’s Empire.” He continued writing. As Castor did so, he noticed the displeasure on his sons face. “And what will I do as Senator?” “You will strengthen our family’s position. The Senate will be meeting to levy funds for the war when you arrive. You will secure us the financial backing for it, and you will do so without draining the family’s treasury.” The elder’s eyes glanced upward to see his son continually rapping his fingers on the table. Marius was beginning to get agitated. So was his father. “I would be of better use in the fie-“ “You seem to find a way to escape your responsibilities.” Castor interrupted, “You cling to the familiarity of warfare, because you can slaughter men day and night for your own vanity. But you refuse to serve your family.” Castor had finished writing. He once again dusted pounce on his writing material. The document with proof of his giving his son the office of Senator in his stead was folded. He poured melted wax on it and pressed his signet ring into it. “You’re far more blessed than you know. You still have youth, a sound mind, and a powerful family that you belong to. And what have you done with those blessings? You’ve served as a glorified butcher hacking down undisciplined savages at the border.” Castor said in an impatient tone. Marius’ reply was bitter, “If it weren’t for me serving as a glorified butcher we’d have those undisciplined savages ravaging our territory.” “No,” his father retorted, “someone else would have served in your stead.” Castor placed the order on the table in front of his son. “You’ve amassed glory for yourself long enough. But what I am commanding you to do is secure our family’s legacy. Thousands of generations have died before us, and we will be soon to join them. The family name is what lives on, not your glory, not your honor, but family.” Castor paused briefly, paying attention to Marius as he pondered. “Do you understand?” Marius’ eyes met his father’s. The man who raised him was uncompromising. Perhaps that was what secured their family’s power and wealth for so long. Marius could tell he would not win this argument, like all the others prior. He nodded silently. “When does the Senate convene?” “In a fortnight. I’ve arranged a small company to go with you to the capital. You leave on the morrow” “I’ll be safe on my own, and I’ll leave today.” Marius arose in an attempt to spite his father. Castor rose as well. “It’s not for you I send the guard, it’s for the family image. And you will wait until the morrow.” Castor left the tent, motioning to his son to follow him to the war council. The tent where the war council met was a short distance from Castor’s own. The commanders’ quarters were in the center, that way they could easily gather and discuss strategy. As Castor and Marius entered, 8 men sat around the table before rising to salute their general. The setting here was not much different from Castor’s own quarters. Lavishly designed furniture and ornate vessels for food and drink presented themselves to the leadership. As Castor and Marius sat down, so too did the commanders. “Inform me of any developments,” the elder demanded. “Quirinius’ army was attacked at their staging area.” One of the commanders began. “However, his men flanked our own with a cavalry charge and broke the assault. 6 legions surround him, but there is a pass not large enough for them press through. If the Emperor wants us to kill these dissenters, they will need reinforcements from us. Our legions combined with Crassus’ will be more than enough to break their lines.” Castor scoffed, “Pathetic. They have 30,000 men and can’t break through a bottleneck.” The General paused, looking at the man who first spoke. “Go on.” “Once Crassus eliminates the 37th, he will join our forces and we’ll press towards Quirinius.” The commander finished. Castor began griping, “These fools think that numbers are enough to win a battle. With 10,000 more men than Quirinius already they still can’t beat him. Once we join our forces to the west, I’ll assume command and teach the rebels what happens when they oppose the Empire.” Castor poured himself a cup of wine. “Anything else?” Another man on the council spoke up, “Our spies spotted a rogue Legionnaire heading towards Ardea. They believe it is Liam Gue. General Crassus has been informed.” “And why is this of importance?” Marius asked, interjecting into the discussion. “Liam Gue was at the Senate meeting when they were discussing how to intercept the 37th. They believe he is going to prepare them for the assault.” “If Senator Maridius is lucky, his son will do his dirty work for him. Go, prepare your regiments.” Castor said, ending the meeting. As the commander left he looked over at his son. “If you think that the Senate will be easier than warfare, you’re sorely mistaken.” “And why is that?” Marius inquired. “Because in warfare a general can retreat, in the Senate, a man lives or dies.” As Marius considered these things, Castor left him. He had a rebellion to crush and an Empire to claim. In Castor’s mind, the thought of the noble house of Caesar being nothing more than a foot note in history was appalling. He would not let it happen, and he would work with his most dangerous enemies if necessary to ensure that. Because he knew that when the time came, after they had come to trust him, he would be their downfall.