Metrius panted on the floor, his chest rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath and recover from the fight. Through closed eyes, he listened to the cheering and roar of victory.

He did not feel the same.

Instead there was only relief and pain; relief that luck had been with him, and that was all that had saved him, and an all consuming pain from his arm that had taken the blow from his opponent’s aspis.

As the pain began to fade to a simple scream of agony in the back of his mind, he began to hear the noise of talking above him and he opened his eyes. There, standing above him, was King Romulus and whoever the other leader was. They talked formally, discussing the matters of tribute and rewards to the victor. The other man definitely seemed displeased with the situation and more than once he glared down at Metrius with antipathy. Finally, with matters concluded he stormed back towards his army. Romulus walked over to stand above Metrius.

“I think you should retire.” A smile was displayed across his face, even a smirk, and it made Metrius loath the man just as much as the other leader had loathed him. To Romulus this was a game; a game that gave him, not Metrius, glory. Men came running over and knelt beside Metrius, carefully lifting him to his feet with his good arm holding a shoulder for support.

Romulus looked across at the enemy army, already withdrawing as their leader stalked back into the battle line shouting orders, “Try the senate. I always need good advisors.” Turning to the Roman army he lifted his weapon and roared.

And the Roman army roared back.

*

The gentlemen walking with King Romulus was wrapped in a grey toga that covered his whole body save his arms and face. Beard a mass of grey and skin wrinkled, his life had obviously been filled with weariness. He showed his age and next to him, Romulus looked like a god.

“The advisors don’t like you.” They walked along the road, the man’s sandals flapping against the stone, “They think Rome’s relations will fall apart with all this war.”

Romulus shrugged. He too was beginning to show age but constant exercise during the numerous battles he had fought kept him in fairly good trim, “I don’t need the senate. I have the people.”

A shake of the head answered him, “The people like tradition and the senate is tradition.” He knew Romulus wouldn’t like his words but the situation was dire and he needed to know the King’s thoughts.

Romulus snorted, “They want victories. They want glory. As I win more they love me more.”

They fell silent, as if they both contemplated the situation. It was evening in the city and the hustle and noise of day had faded long ago. The odd shouts or dog barking in the night was the only interruption of the stillness. No-one would look for them here and certainly nobody of the upper classes would come across them in this district.

“The advisors have been around for a long time,” A sigh followed the reply, “without them, Rome would not have formed.”

“Without me Rome would not have formed,” Replied Romulus, shaking his head.

“You and Titus.”

The King suddenly stopped, turning to glare at the character who quickly followed suit and came to a halt, “Titus is dead!”

“Gone.”

“Dead” Growled Romulus. The irritation was clear in his face and his fists clenched in anger.

“His body wasn’t found.” Shrugging, the other man continued, “But you’re right, it doesn’t matter any more. That was a long time ago.”

Making their way onward, the two let the night guide their path through the houses of Rome.

For my other stories/parts go to:

http://www.xomba.com/short_story_list_metrius_and_others