The enemy had crumbled under the strength of King Romulus once again. Now the vultures would feast on the carrion and families would weep for their loved ones. And Romulus would feed on the glory.

Despite the wealth of the occupant, the room was smaller than most. It was still richly decorated with familiar tapestries and mosaics, but it gave an air of prudent spending that offered a down to earth view of the owner. Simple furniture and lack of it, like any other Roman house, but even so the room was packed.

At least twelve men, some seated around a undersized wooden table and others standing, watched and listened as members of the group complained and grumbled about the man that continued to throw their power aside. Romulus.

“He is egotistical and arrogant.”

“The man needs to be taken down a peg.”

“He needs to be removed from power.”

At the last snapped comments, the room fell silent except for a few murmurs of agreement. They all know the last spoke the truth yet who would dare confront the King of the People? Even to suggest it was to risk execution.

As they gradually returned to their complaints, a hooded figure slipped into the back of the chamber and watched the proceedings with quiet interest.

Finally, one person rapped the table and called for an end to the grumbling. He was definitely one of the eldest, at least sixty or so, and unlike the rest his life of luxury had not touched him so much.

“Gentlemen, you are right and Nicodemus is right,” he nodded to the man who had made the statement about Romulus’ removal, “Romulus is going too far.” He watched the room keenly to see any sign of objection but there was none, “We have constantly fought the Etruscans and the Latins, so much so they break codes of honor to seek revenge. Even the odd battle has been fought against the Umbrians and Oscans who would eagerly join their plight.” Agreement showed itself amongst the faces of the audience, “Rome has lost too many, or numbers diminish yearly, and mothers and wives constantly weep. Romulus fails to realize we are barely a kingdom and yet he fights as if we are an empire.” He took a deep breath, “Yes, Nicodemus is right; he must be removed from power.”

For a while none spoke up, but eventually one word summed up the room’s opinion.

“How?”

The ring-leader smiled, “If we find a way to loose Romulus but not the people then I shall gladly carry out any deed required.”

“But Romulus and the people cannot be separated.”

And the room fell silent.

*

Metrius walked to his bed through the bustle of the life of Rome. Romulus had located his city well and the growth over the last thirty years stunned him. His head turned as a sound caught his ears, this time the shouted ramblings of a dirty, ragged citizen spouting opinions and thoughts to those who cared to listen. Very few could spare the time or even wanted to.

Trade had spread so much that the streets were lined with traders and displays showing goods of all types. Merchants brought their wares through on their travels between tribes of the Italian Peninsula and their business gave Rome the wealth it desired. Fowl, linen, slaves and ornamentation; all were exhibit to the audience of many. People bargained, haggled, complained and bought. A salesman, shouting out offers and beckoning calls, caught his eye and Metrius examined his merchandise.

“You see something you like?” The man grinned, picking up cloth of a fine, rich colour, “I give you a good price for it.” The man’s voice was thick and full of a foreign accent.

“I’d leave it if I were you.”

The new voice, much deeper and sounded educated. It was even familiar. When he turned, the aged bearded face lit a spark of remembrance within.

“Do I know you?” Metrius shaded his eyes from the bright Mediterranean light as he looked up at the figure. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall and he had probably lost some height with age, “I seem to have a recollection of you but I can’t put a finger on your face.”

Looking at him puzzled, the man shrugged, “Perhaps we fought together; I was once a warrior a long time ago, before this damned political career.” He said the last words with distaste, “It is strange how we never seem to end up doing what our hearts and minds told us we would do.” He sighed and went back to studying the various goods on display, the conversation over.

However, a sudden recognition; the faded beard painted by age; the once fit form that was now sagging and poorly toned from lack of exercise…

“Helius?

In shock, the man turned to look at him, bewildered at the sound of his own name.

For my other stories/parts go to:

http://www.xomba.com/short_story_list_metrius_and_others