Chapter One

Set during the rise of the Roman Empire, a slightly above middle-class family strives for ultimate prestige - for ultimate power in the Empire that has conquered the world. They will stop at nothing.

“I knew,” were the absurd words from Marcus Gaius Linius. “I knew about Arminius. Or should I call him by the barbarian name father knew him as " Vogamolis. Of course, I only knew recognised by his barbarian name. I didn’t know he was THE Arminius until now.”

Marcus’ brother, sister and mother glared at him, completely stunned, reviled and wrought with cold grief. Marcus seemed to be the only one with his emotions in order. But the man understood his family’s disbelief. Their world had just been ripped away from beneath their feet. Not one of Marcus’ family could quite understand how what they had just learned, had come to be. How could this Germanic savage, this Vogamolis, known as the infamous Arminius in Roman society, be their kin? How could this savage be the half-brother of Marcus Gaius Linius, Flavia Julia Linius and Atticus Vitellius Linius? How could Arminius, the name which compelled Roman citizens to shudder as they recalled the treachery and disaster he had inspired in the dark depths of the Germanic forests, be part of their family? Just what incomprehensible crime had the late Publius Vaspian Linius committed in his youth?  

“The mother’s name was Esselt,” Marcus continued calmly, to the dismay of his family.

Julia turned her back to her family, cupping her mouth with her cheeks and furiously shook her head, as if by doing so, the reality of what she had just learned would vanish. Vitellius clenched his jaw, grey eyes twinkling with murderous rage. The mother of the three grown children, Sophia Aurelia Linius, held the scroll which had obliterated any semblance of order in her world, in her hands. They were trembling furiously, so much so that the scroll’s face made a rustling noise. With pursed eyes, she studied the stroll even closer, her free hand tracing the letters on the neat rows of writing as if she were a child who had just been introduced to the wonders of literature. Her finger stopped and her eyes halted their scanning.

“Esselt,” she whispered hoarsely. “There she is. The savage has the audacity to write her name before me.” Aurelia hurled the scroll away. “Before me!”

“How could you keep such a thing from us?” Julia finally demanded of Marcus.

“Father told me in confidentiality,” Marcus answered. “Made me swear to never tell another soul.”

“We’re your family!” Vitellius exploded at his younger brother.

“And he was my father!” Marcus snapped back.

“The traitor,” Aurelia whispered with trembling hands. “That wrenched swine of a traitor. How could Vaspian do this to me? To you?”

Marcus approached his mother and knelt before her. He took her hands in his, eyes staring deep into hers.

“Mother, when father met this Gaelic woman, he was ignorant of your existence. He was just another young, lonely soldier on the frontline, yearning for what was natural. He did nothing wrong.”

Aurelia tore her hands from Marcus’, snarled and slapped her son. Marcus’ head craned to the side. “Nothing wrong?” She shrieked, her sharp tone echoing through their grand living room. “Nothing wrong? The barbarian b*****d your ever-so-pious father sired is responsible for the destruction of three Roman legions in Germania! He’s responsible for the destruction of a tenth of our forces! He’s responsible for fear of German invasion in our very streets! Beyond the current predicament we find ourselves due to your father’s profligacy, you actually condone breeding with a beast of another race?”

An ashen Marcus didn’t respond. He simply separated himself from his mother and stood to his feet.

“If he didn’t betray us,” Vitellius said. “Then he surely betrayed Rome. How could he sire a barbarian child with a barbarian mother?”

Marcus let out a callous cackle, furious that the late father he adored with all his heart was being defamed in such a manner. “Oh please, big brother. You are suddenly the word of restraint and abstinence? Tell me, is there any wench in Rome or any of the provinces you have visited who is unacquainted with your c**k? I wonder just how many little barbarian b******s you have running around the Empire.”

A seething Vitellius charged his younger brother, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. A scuffle between the young men ensued. Julia attempted to break it up, however she was unsuccessful. It was only the piercing shriek of Aurelia which commanded the men to seize.

“I didn’t marry a feeble, unambitious, barbarian-loving moron so I could painfully squeeze out a couple of boys who act like inebriated peasants in the depths of Rome’s squalor!” Aurelia screamed as she stood to her feet.

She was quite the woman. In her early 50s, despite her advancing years, she inspired sheer power through her enduring disposition. She had gentle brown hair which had maintained its vitality through the advances of age. Her cheeks were slender, with cheekbones that stood high and proud. Her lips were remarkably thin " almost blade-like, something which had earned her the unflattering nickname of swordmouth. The moniker didn’t only derive due to her appearance, but also her fierce personality. Her eyes were black " as dark as a shark’s lifeless pupils. They were almost lifeless. In another defiance of advancing age, unlike many of her peers, her body hadn’t bloated due to the rigor of pregnancy, childbirth and a diminishing metabolism. She maintained a lean, fit body; a combination of favourable genetics and an avid repulsion of physical inactivity.  

“Now, my sons,” she finally said, her voice calming. “We must discard personal pride and remember that this concern’s our family’s reputation, honour and prestige. In fact, it may even concern our lives.”

“Our lives?” Julia questioned, incredulous.

“Don’t be such a dim-witted b***h,” Aurelia scolded her daughter. “Yes, our lives! We are directly affiliated with the auxiliary traitor who foiled Augustus’ plan of expanding the Empire farther eastwards. Your father fucked Arminius’ barbarian, uncivilized mother, producing the mongrel he is in the process. Arminius completely raped Roman honour and invincibility. Upon his hearing of the news, Augustus screamed, ‘Varus, give me back my legions,’ over and over again. Like a madman. As Vitellius knows, Augustus hasn’t been the same ever since what happened in the Teutoberg Forest. Unwell leaders make for dangerous ones. If the Emperor is not of sound mind, he may think we, due to our connection with the Germanic barbarian, were involved. What do you think would happen then?”

“At best, our name would be forever sullied,” Vitellius reported soberly. “And I nor Marcus nor Julia could ever hope to attain any kind of meaningful status in Rome. We would be disgraced. Ostracized. At worst . . .”

“At worst our bloody heads would be on stakes,” Aurelia said.

Vitellius took a few paces on the stone floor and picked up the offending scroll his mother had discarded. A part of him still couldn’t believe it. Arminius, the former Germanic Roman auxiliary soldier who had cunningly fooled Governor/General Varus, leading him and the three legions he commanded (a force of around 20,000 soldiers) to absolute slaughter, was his half-brother. He was unable suppress a small smirk. From an objective, man to man perspective, Vitellius had to admire Arminius. A man of guile himself, the barbarian’s play was certainly a masterful one.

Beyond the direct benefits of completely shattering three Roman legions due to the fierce attacks from Germanic tribes, the effect of Arminius’ treachery emanated in the vast depths of the Imperial Palace, filling the streets with anxiety as the façade of Roman inconvincibility, spurred on by Augustus himself during many victorious campaigns on the many Roman frontiers, was shattered.  

Beyond his instinctive rage at the news, the Roman Emperor, Octavian Augustus Caesar, was taken by melancholia. A sullen disposition had descended over him and a grey cloud hung above his head, even now, two years after the disaster in the German forest of Teutoberg. Beyond the supplementing rumours of Augustus’ decline in mental health, Vitellius had witnessed the man’s change in disposition personally, for he was a soldier of the Praetorian Guard, a special force of combatants who formed the contingent of the Emperor’s elite bodyguard.  

The letter from Arminius, having been dispatched from Germania herself, had been sent by a special envoy of horse riders en route to the House of Linius in the countryside outside Rome. How Arminius had known who they were was a mystery to Vitellius. He surmised the man’s mother, his father’s former lover, told him about the love affair she had with Vaspian. However, how could Arminius have known the exact family Vaspian had belonged to? He shook his head clear of the daunting thought.

A tall and handsome man, Vitellius had inherited his mother’s black eyes and strong cheekbones. Boasting a lean and fit body, he had the broad soldiers of a fine soldier; arms were as bloated and as solid as an ox’s stomach. His younger brother, Marcus, was handsome, however he didn’t possess his oldest sibling’s towering height. He had inherited Vaspian’s modest frame of 5’8. Unlike Vitellius, he didn’t have fierce black hair and fierce black eyes. It seemed ironic, for in the Linius family, it was Marcus who had the most love for the dead Vaspian; and it seemed the Gods had foreseen this aspect, therefore seeing it fit and proper for him to have been the one to have inherited the traits of Vaspian in body, mind and spirit. He had the unobtrusive brown hair of his father, along with the hazel eyes.

Julia, the only female among the Linius children, was a beauty of almost incomprehensible proportions. She had the black hair of her mother and her eyes were of a mesmerizing shade of hot amber. Her skin was a lovely, olive tan-shade synonymous with those of the Mediterranean. Her skin almost glowed " sometimes it looked as if it were sleek with moisture, whereas in truth, it was bursting with life. Her nose slim, almost chiseled arithmetically to match her perfect face. An inch taller than her youngest sibling, Marcus, she had a slender and highly attractive frame. Men would blatantly gaze at her, unable to lure their eyes from what they thought as a treasure of the Mediterranean " a triumph of Roman feminine wonder.

“I thought Arminius is German?” Julia put in.

“Must you always state the obvious, my daughter?” An exasperated Aurelia answered.

“In the letter, he mentions that his mother is Gaelic,” she answered without meeting her mother’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Father told me that shortly after falling pregnant with Arminius, Esselt coupled with a nomadic German who found himself in their village. When Arminius was born, she tricked him into thinking the baby was his, when in reality, Arminius has fifty per cent of Roman blood and fifty per cent of Gaelic blood in him,” Marcus informed them.

“So he’s not really German?” A curious Aurelia said.

“By blood, no,” Marcus responded. “But by spirit, yes. I gather his family must have relocated to Germania when he was still a babe. He grew up in a German environment " thus he became a German.”

“I wonder why Esselt decided to confide this information to him. She could have remained silent " she could have let him live in ignorance,” Julia suggested.

“Such an outcome would have been preferable for all parties,” Aurelia said bitterly.

“We must do something about this,” Vitellius, the oldest of the Linius siblings, said.

“Yes,” Aurelia responded, pacing for a moment like an anxious lion, before pausing. “General Tiberius will soon be en route to Germania, yes? To restore Roman honour and to crush Arminius and his people?”

“Yes,” Vitellius responded.

“Then you must accompany him.”

“What?” Vitellius was stunned.

“There are no ‘whats,’ my son. Only whens.”

“Mother, that is not possible. I’m not your average, footslogging soldier on the frontier. I’m a Praetoria---”

“You are a glorified bodyguard,” Aurelia spat with contempt. “So what if you command two times the pay of the average soldier? So what if your armour and weapons are superior to a legionary’s? When the Emperor eats, you guard. When the Emperor f***s, you guard. When the Emperor s***s, you guard. There is no glory in such a career. I have far more respect for the peasant legionaries who are out on the frontiers, facing barbarian after barbarian.” She paused. “Besides, your ascension is not my current concern. Wiping out Arminius and anyone aware of your father’s stupidity is my priority.”

“Three Roman legions were unable to destroy Arminius " what makes you think a ‘glorified bodyguard’ can do what they couldn’t?” Marcus remarked. His older brother shot him a contemptuous glare.

“I would suppress your smug expression, my youngest. You will accompany your brother,” Aurelia addressed Marcus.

“That is an absurd proposition!” Marcus protested.

“Mother, what you seem to disregard is that I and my younger brother are subjects of the army, not the other way round. We don’t have the liberty of dictating where we are posted on a whim.”

For once, Marcus agreed with his brother and nodded his head in approval.

“You said you have a warm relationship with the Emperor,” Julia weighed in, her intelligent eyes alight. 

“You said he has an affinity for our late father due to the enduring loyalty he had for Julius Caesar.”

“The only thing that fool did right in his wrenched life,” Aurelia spoke of her late husband.

Marcus clenched his jaw, a surge of anger rising within him. Every time his mother’s spoke ill of his father, it felt as if someone were thrusting a dagger through his chest.

“Yes, the Emperor had an affinity for our father and yes, he---”

“Use it,” Julia suggested to her oldest brother. “Use his empathy towards our family. Tell him you want to personally accompany Tiberius to Germania " you want to personally avenge Rome’s defeat and restore honour, for you, like father, are a loyal servant of the House of Caesar and just like father, you will do whatever it takes in service to your master and nation.”

Aurelia smiled at her daughter’s cunning nature. She wasn’t just a pretty face after all. Aurelia appreciated her daughter’s subtle, manipulative ways. Subtlety had never been her strong suit. She was more of a blunt force who said what she thought. In such a manner, she and her daughter complemented one another perfectly.

Vitellius sighed. “I can try.”

“And that’s all we can ask,” Julia said, before glancing at her mother, who gave her an assuring nod.

Silence fell over the family of four for a moment. Each member was absorbed in his or her own thoughts, pondering the predicament they faced, still reeling at the absolute absurdity of it all. Aurelia broke the silence.

“We stand on a precipice, my children,” she addressed them firmly. “Your father may have been inept when it came to many things, but I know he was a good warrior " a good soldier, hence his rapid elevation under Julius Caesar. At Alesia, he, Caesar and the sixty thousand Roman troops were heavily outnumbered and encircled by the Gauls, who had almost two hundred thousand men in their ranks. But they prevailed, against all odds. You don’t hail from the patrician class " you cannot trace your family’s prestigious origin the ages of the Senate. But just like your father at Alesia, you will prevail against all odds. You will win. One day, Rome will be yours, for I, as your mother, will accept nothing less than total victory.”