Helius looked numb founded at his friend, his expression lost in bewilderment.

“Its Metrius, we fought together almost,” he pondered how long it had been and the thought hit home just how much time he had lost in his life, “thirty years ago.” The last few words were mumbled, his voice dwindling to the shock.

The large man looked at him, a large furrow appearing in his brow, “Metrius? By the gods! I had heard you were fighting in the army but, well, it was so long ago.”

Snapping out of his trance like state, Metrius smiled, “I guess I must have changed over the years.”

“We’ve both changed.” Grunted Helius, placing some cloth back down that he had been examining, “I heard you’ve got quite a name for yourself.”

Metrius chuckled, “It was nothing, just a few fights.”

“’Hero of Rome’,” laughed Helius, “doesn’t sound like a few fights to me.”

“So you’ve heard of my nickname. Damned thing is following me around.” If he was honest with himself then he had been sure it was because Agathon’s was enraptured in a few good wins but now the name came from Helius he wasn’t so sure. He shrugged off the conversation, not wanting to talk about the background he knew very little about, “What have you been up to?”

“Politics, would you believe it.” A smile appeared on Helius’ face, “Never would have thought it, would you?”

Metrius returned the grin and for a second he felt young again.

Their conversation continued as they made their way between the dry stone houses of Rome, between the venders and sellers until the street opened out into a large square. Here, the large open area was decorated with green trees, sprouting up from neatly placed clay pots. Statues posed amongst the plants: women standing, sitting, and reaching out.

“Juno.” Muttered Helius, nodding at the woman, “Would you believe we fight the Etruscans and yet we worship their gods. It’s a mixed up world we live in, Metrius.”

The sculptures were amazing; Metrius thought nothing could ever be made like this. He ran his hand over the surface, feeling the rough texture that had been turned into a thing of beauty.

“How do they do this?” He murmured, not taking his eyes from the statue.

“Who knows?” Shrugged Helius, “But the artists dedicate their work to her and her temple. Come.”

They made their way across the square, towards a large building with rows of columns that brought extravagance and authority. Stepping between the broad structures, they walked up the steps that led into the grand temple of Juno.

Within, the simplicity did not match the grandeur of the outside. Very little décor adorned the walls and the one spacious room was empty, save for a large alter that was carved with pictures of armies and battles. They walked towards the front where incense burned and a small, silver dish was festooned with coins.

“This is the power.” Murmured Helius, as they stood in front, “Religion.”

Metrius frowned, “What do you mean?”

Without taking his eyes from the glow of the flames, Helius replied.

“The senate, they advise the King but have no power. The King? If he should fail the people would rise up. The people? On the battle they are the ones who decide Rome’s fate but in the end they are lost sheep if they have no leader.

“They need guidance, and the only guidance they truly have, never ending, is religion.”

He turned to Metrius and the cold look of power in his eyes made the later shiver, “Control religion and you control the people.”

For my other stories/parts go to:

http://www.xomba.com/short_story_list_metrius_and_others