The room was large and ornate, adorned with mosaics that showed battles and gods, patterns and shapes. It was definitely of high standing, carved columns lined the sides and, unlike the usual lack of furniture of most Roman establishments, it was filled with rows of benches. They rose upwards so as all spectators could observe what went on at the front.

And at the front was a podium, carved and decorated just like the rest of the room, giving an impressive viewpoint for a lecturer. Today’s lecturer was Romulus.

“The Etruscans will strike again.” His voice bellowed out, deep and clear, as he addressed his audience.

The audience, a room full of advisors, looked back in disgust. One stood, someone Romulus had a particular distaste for, and glared down at the King, “The Etruscans understand laws and rules, my king,” the last two words seemed to come out with bitterness rather than respect, “and they have agreed the price of their failure.”

Inside, Romulus winced. The place was packed full of his advisors, most ex-advisors from the tribes that had ousted them, but they were all old men dressed in togas and he regretted creating this council in the first place. Back when it was created, they were young fighters who were ready to subdue the tribes and take the wealth and women. Now they sought security and safety that no developing city could provide if it was to be successful.

He looked around the room, scanning the faces. There were still a few predominant characters he knew he had on his side and it was these he relied upon to sway the others. Even so, it was becoming a fight against his powers and ‘tradition’.

“Do you think all the tribes of this new world care for rules?” He snorted, “The honor of Greece may be in our blood but these are primitive tribes who need blood and vengeance!”

“Called for by your ignorant actions!” The shout was echoed by several voices and a chorus of agreements followed.

Romulus slammed his fist down, “My actions brought you wealth and fortune which have allowed you the life of luxury that you bathe in!” Stepping down off the podium he marched in front of them, moving his hand to gesture at all who sat in front of him, “Look at you all; you wear the finest clothing; have slaves that await you; and you live in a city that is developing at a rate we never thought possible!”

As another senator rose to argue, a sound interrupted the debate and Romulus turned to the archway.

Galloping, and now someone running towards them.

For a second Romulus’s hand touched the hilt of his sword but he moved it away. Not in the advisors chamber. Keeping his posture, he watched as a young man in light clothing ran through the doorway. He was clearly sweating from a hard, fast ride.

“My king, the Etruscan army is marching on Rome.” Anxiety in his voice was plain to all and his words seemed to be filled with electricity.

Turning, Romulus looked up at the advisors, “Rules?” He sneered, “There are no rules!”

For my other stories/parts go to:

http://www.xomba.com/short_story_list_metrius_and_others