XXVII – Roman Wisdom

Dear Journal:

Finally, came the dawn. At that point in my life, I had never loved four words more. What poetry. What style. What a relief!

The Lady, Little Brother, Myself, Mutts, and assorted allies watched as the sun rose over an intact city. We had weathered the night with only one casualty (and he deserved what he got) and quite a few frayed nerves. Rome had not been invaded, sacked, or damaged to any great extent, as evidenced by the early market goers, and a growing throng of Romans gathering in front of the palace.

My Praetorians kept them at a respectful distance as they craned their necks to get a glimpse of the new Caesar. I had once been part of that crowd. I sighed with nostalgic memories. Well, back to reality.

I had a city to rule and a government to set up. Hopefully this administration would be better than the last one. I knew one thing for sure. My few Forum speechs would be as truthful as possible, and unrehearsed.

The Imperial train of thought screeched to a halt as I shook my head vigorously.

What was I thinking!? Where was the retired fishmonger of just one year ago? What had happened to my relative innocence? Had all this Patrician living made me forget my beginnings?

Maybe this was the seed from which sprang the corruption of empire. Absolute power corrupting even the naive and well meaning souls who wielded it? At that moment I had a small grain of pity for my predecessor. I had only had this power for half a day and, already, it was affecting me. He had been raised with it, and knew nothing else.

“Kinda’ makes you think, doesn’t it?” Little Brother had, as usual read my face and guessed my thoughts. “I had the same problem when I was fighting Rome. Here I was… a foot slogger in the Legions of the greatest power in the world. Then I turn around and I’m a rebel general FIGHTING that same empire. Put me off my feed for a few days, let me tell you! Look, Caesar. All you can do is all you can do. Nothing more or less. Don’t forget the fishmonger. Just store him in your memories and draw on him when you need balance. Worked for me. Should work for you. After all, we’re family, aren’t we?” He chuckled and left the terrace, presumably to tend to other duties.

You know, he was right. We WERE family, regardless of whom our real parents were. I wouldn’t forget that kernal of knowledge again. I felt a little better.

I stepped to the terrace railing and was greeted by the resounding thunder of “HAIL CAESAR !!!”

Groan! This was going to be a long, long day.

Chapter XXVIII

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Published in: on October 18, 2009 at 7:22 PM  Comments (1)  
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  1. […] Chapter XXVII Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)XXVIII – Rome, Caesar, Mutts, And FriendXXV – The Roman and . . . HAIL WHO . . . ?XX – Rude Romans And PaybackFood Critic: Little Caesar’s Hot-N-Ready Pizza Published in: […]


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