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  "Believe me when I say that you may be forced to keep your word under not just the threat of torture or death, but the experience of same," Marcus bristled slightly at Monale's intimation of closeness to Alexandra - a closeness which his voice seemed to imply had been the consequence of more than the relationship between Priest and Oracle. Marcus was not ordinarily a jealous man, but something about Monale had set him on edge. "Nonetheless, I do not question your convictions. Tell me, what are your feelings towards Julianus Vestatian and his Sicambrii underlings?"

  "I despise them," the Priest said. "Vestatian is a coward who abandoned his fellow Romans and lead heathens in a fight which slaughtered Mars' favoured children. What does that...ah." The Priest nodded, suddenly understanding. "You seek to overthrow them? That is what this mission of yours has been about, correct?"

  "Yes," Alexandra said. "We have been raising an army, one which will soon strike out at Vestatian and his Sicambrii minions."

  "I see," the Priest said. "Since that is the vision of Mars, I applaud your initiative in taking action. Tell me more about this army. How many men do you have? Do you believe it has the strength to be a viable opposition to the Sicambrii?"

  "For obvious reasons," Marcus said cautiously, "I cannot give you full details of our army. Plausible deniability, you understand - I would not wish to burden you with knowledge which could make you an appealing target for our enemies. In fact, we would not have come here at all, save for the fact that we require discrete shelter for the time being."

  "You shall have it, of course," the Priest said without any trace of hesitation. "I ask only one favour of you."

  "Anything within my power," Marcus said.

  "Allow me to stand beside you on the frontlines when the time for battle comes," the Priest spoke the word 'battle' with a nostalgic sparkle in his eyes. "I am old, and have little life left in me. I wish for nothing more than to die on the field of battle with a spear in my hands."

  "Consider it done," Marcus said with a smile. "We will not turn away any man who wishes to fight."

  "Excellent. May I ask when I will be able to perform my duty? I do not want to be caught unprepared."

  "Do not worry," Marcus said. "You will be contacted with the details when it is time for battle."

  "Of course, of course," the Priest said. "Come, I shall show you to your chamber, General Ulpius. Oracle, I trust these venerable halls are still familiar enough to you that you can find your old chambers?"

  "I doubt I shall have any trouble with that," Alexandra said with a bright smile.

  ***

  After having been shown to his room in the Temple of Mars, Marcus bade his host farewell and, after stowing his clothes and weapons in his closet, went to Alexandra's chambers. He knocked lightly on the door, then slipped inside. Alexandra was already waiting for him, seated on a small chair facing the door.

  "You're late," she said with a smile.

  "I apologize," Marcus said, "but it took me longer than I expected to extricate myself from the clutches of the Priest. He is quite eager to know all he can about our movement."

  "You cannot blame him, can you? For as long as I can remember, he has told tales of his glory days in the Emperor's Legions. I think he longs to be a soldier again, waging war on the field of battle rather than performing clerical duties in a temple on the outermost fringes of the Empire. I hope you indulged him, Marcus."

  "Not as much as he would have liked to be indulged, I'm sure. For obvious reasons, I only answered him in vague generalities - after all, until I meet with Domitian and Vito, even I do not know the full details of our forces. To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely willing to divulge many of the details I do know, even to someone you trust so much as Monale. Such indiscretion is never a good idea, even when the disclosures are made to someone we trust."

  "You are so utterly obsessed with this mission of ours," Alexandra said with a soft laugh. "I love that about you. Your dedication, I mean. We've been travelling together for months, and I do not believe that anything short of the Gods themselves could stop you."

  "Then we should be happy that the Gods are on our side," Marcus said. "Now, I don't mean to just be rushing out on you, but I think that I should check in with Domitian and Vito tonight. I know they would appreciate hearing from us, and I will rest easier knowing that our plans for dealing with Julianus Vestatian will be one step closer to fruition."

  "I know," Alexandra said. "Go and speak with Domitian and Vito, if they are in town. Hurry back."

  Marcus smiled gently, reaching out to caress Alexandra's cheek. Although he said nothing, his steadfast gaze into her eyes conveyed the message more succinctly than words ever could have: he would be back. He reluctantly turned to leave, facing an inner battle where his duties were weighed against his desire to linger with Alexandra. It was only with great difficulty that duties triumphed on that occasion, but he did force himself to hurry out of the temple. He made his way through the streets as quickly as he possibly could without raising suspicion. Some things will never change, he thought as he hurried along the streets. I still feel naked without my sword at my side. Even in the darkest of times, when I had fallen to the greatest depths of depression and temporarily abandoned my duty, I still felt naked without my sword. Ah, well. Soon enough, I shall be able to walk armed through these streets with impunity - no more need to rely on daggers tucked in the folds of my clothes for my defense. Soon enough indeed.

  He was about halfway to The Countryside Innwhen a voice resounding from atop a flight of stairs gave him pause. Looking up, Marcus saw a ragged and dirty young man standing in the entryway of a store, calling out to a rapidly growing crowd.

  "...and we will not take it anymore! They invaded our cities," the young man continued, his voice rising to a fevered pitch. Mutters of assent echoed through the gathering crowd. "And when they did, we sat idle. They burned our homes, and when they did, we sat idle. They raped our wives, and when they did, we sat idle. They imprisoned our brethren, our friends and neighbours, and when they did, we sat idle. We shall sit idle no more!"

  The damned fool,Marcus thought, is going to get himself killed - along with half of his audience. Only half, if he's lucky. These doubts did nothing to dissuade Marcus from taking a position to the side of the crowd, leaning against the side of a building across the street from the ranting urchin. If he is going to stir them into a riot,Marcus thought with a morbid smile, I should at least be here for it. To limit the death toll, if nothing else. Besides, street urchin though he may be, he is obviously no stranger to oration - and stirring up anti-Sicambrii sentiment can do little to hurt our cause.

  "Take up arms, my brothers and sisters," the young man cried, "and strike out against those who strike at us! Look! Even now they come! They come to silence us, my friends!" Sure enough, half a dozen very angry Sicambrii warriors were wading through the crowd towards the young man. They either did not notice the hostility they faced, or did not care about it. The young man continued his rabid tirade uninterrupted: "Will you be silenced?"

  "No!" was the unanimous chorus from the crowd. With a wicked grin, Marcus bent down and picked up a large rock from the side of the street and hurled it at the nearest warrior. The projectile connected with the man's head, knocking him back a step and opening a small, bleeding gash across his forehead. That should liven this crowd up a little,Marcus thought.

  The warrior cried out in pain, shoving aside the nearest citizens as he tried to wipe the flowing blood away from his eyes. The efforts were in vain, however, and his temporary blindness prevented him from warding off the flurry of blows which fell upon him from the enraged Roman citizens. Marcus smiled viciously, slipping his hand into the folds of his tunic and pulling his dagger free. Moving effortlessly through the throng of furious citizens, Marcus quickly came face to face with the second Sicambrii warrior. Having seen the fate of his fallen compatriot, the warrior had readied his weapon, a massive double-edged sword. Two Romans had already been cut d
own by the hacking weapon, but Marcus swiftly ducked beneath the blade's arc, shuffling in close to the warrior's body. An upward thrust of the dagger caused it to slip under the warrior's rib cage; Marcus jerked the weapon to the left, widening the already mortal wound enough that he was able to shove the dagger further into the warrior's body - so deeply, in fact, that Marcus' arm was covered in blood and viscera up to his forearm as he withdrew the dagger. The warrior's body dropped to the ground, the man still writhing in agony as he was trampled beneath the feet of the rioting crowd.

  Continuing to slip through the crowd, Marcus made his way to the steps where the would-be leader of the riot still stood. The young man's jaw was agape at the dizzying violence of the scene before him, as if he was unable to comprehend what was actually happening. Taking the man by the arm, Marcus pulled him down from the steps and into a nearby alley. A quick glance back at the crowd was all Marcus needed to ensure that the remaining Sicambrii warriors were still occupied with fighting against the crowd.

  "Idiot boy," Marcus said, slapping the young man hard enough to jolt him out of his reverie. Marcus' hand left behind a purplish imprint of smeared blood across the young man's cheek. "You are lucky that I was here to save you. I suppose that Vito put you up to this, eh? Stirring up a riot in the streets...that sounds like his work."

  "Wha...what? Who is Vito?" The young man's voice was trembling, almost broken with fear. Marcus stared intently into the boy's eyes, then burst out laughing as a slowly-dawning realization overtook him.

  "You really don't know? Don't tell me that this little uprising was strictly your idea."

  "Well, yes. I mean, no. That is...I didn't intend for a riot to break out. I just wanted people to see the horrors that they've seemed to block out. The suffering in this city, and throughout this province - people are ignoring it."

  "By the Gods, I would have never thought it possible." Marcus sighed heavily. "Very well, boy, pay close attention, because I'm not going to repeat this. People have indeed noticed the horrors you speak of, and something is being done about it. Ill-timed and poorly conceived revolutions will not help the cause, I assure you."

  "What? I don't know what you...are you going to do anything to stop this? If more guards get here, these people will all be arrested - or worse, killed!"

  "I know," Marcus said. "And I'm going to deal with this situation, but first I have one more thing I need to tell you. Meet me at The Countryside Inntomorrow at noon. If you don't know where it is, ask around. It's hard to miss. Tell nobody where you are going or who you are meeting. Do you understand?"

  "Y-yes."

  "Good. Now get out of here." Thankful to be free of the situation, the young man ran off down the alley away from the riot. Marcus turned to face the tumultuous crowd, quickly assessing the situation. Surprisingly, the crowd had managed to kill all but one of the remaining Sicambrii warriors, and was now mostly engaged in celebration of their victory. Wasting no time, Marcus leapt up to the stairs where the young man had incited the riot. "Good people," he cried out, his voice carrying over the nearly deafening roar of the crowd, "you must disperse immediately! Away to your homes, all of you, and speak of this no more! Disperse!"

  The crowd slowly and reluctantly complied with Marcus, gradually dispersing into the alleys and nearby streets. Marcus followed suit, disappearing into the nearby alley as nearly a dozen Sicambrii guards began to dash towards the remaining rioters. Marcus believed that he had escaped unnoticed, but unbeknownst to him he had been spotted by a familiar face. The bald head of Monale, the priest of Mars, shone in the sunlight from his perch on the second floor of a home across the street from Marcus' escape route. He glared down at Marcus' form as it shrunk into the distance and darkness of the alley.

  ***

  After the riot in the streets, Marcus decided against continuing on to find Domitian and Vito. Instead, he took a winding route back to the temple, checking over his shoulder periodically to ensure that he was not being followed. After nearly two hours of this zig-zagging through the streets and alleys, Marcus finally slipped into the rear door of the temple and made his way to Alexandra's chambers. He knocked softly on the door, and Alexandra opened her door so that he could enter.

  "Marcus," she said, slightly confused, "I did not think you would be back here so soon. Did your meeting with Domitian go well, or was he unavailable?"

  "There hasn't been a meeting yet. There was a bit of a disturbance on the way to the inn. Things got a little messy."

  "Oh," she said. "I assume that you are unharmed?"

  "Completely undamaged," Marcus said as he lifted his arms over his head and whirled around so that Alexandra could see the truth of his statement. "Though I cannot say the same for the unfortunate Sicambrii who tried to break up the gathered crowd, or for the few citizens who got in their way."

  "'Unfortunate' Sicambrii? You almost sound like you're developing some compassion for them."

  "Not in the slightest. I was speaking from a strictly objective point of view. Death - painful death, at that - is rarely considered fortunate. I, of course, consider it quite fortunate that I was nearby to aid in their misfortune."

  "You didn't kill a Sicambrii in public," Alexandra asked, "did you?"

  "No," Marcus said with a wicked grin. "I killed one and seriously injured another. Technically, I was quite helpful in inciting the violence of the riot, so I suppose you could say that I indirectly killed them all, though I do not have the hubris to claim that lofty honour for myself."

  "Marcus," Alexandra said, shaking her head sadly. "Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. What if you were spotted by a Sicambrii loyalist? You are still very much a figure in the public eye, Marcus. If you are even suspected of still being alive - let alone being responsible for inciting a riot - you would be tracked down, arrested, and executed for treason!"

  "I know," Marcus said. "However, I am not worried. I cannot imagine that I was spotted by any Sicambrii loyalists who still draw breath, and even if I was, I would have been nothing more than a single face in a crowd of many faces. Recognizing me and tracking me down would certainly not be considered foregone conclusions."

  "Which is not an excuse for such careless public action," Alexandra said. "I do not wish to seem crass, but you are a very important figure in our plans. If you avoid getting involved in a public disturbance, and thus avoid getting spotted doing so, and a few innocents die as a result while you survive...some would say that is an equitable tradeoff, given how many thousands of other innocent lives lay in the balance of the coming months."

  "An important figure? Is the only reason you want me alive," Marcus said quietly, "because I am an integral part of the plans to overthrow the Sicambrii?"

  "No," Alexandra said. "There are other reasons, of course. You know full well what they are, Marcus. My feelings for you...our feelings for each other...I believe they are obvious enough to not need mentioning."

  "I know," Marcus said with the slightest hint of a smile. "It was a bit of morbid humour on my part to suggest otherwise. I realize that my survival is very important to the welfare of all the citizens of this province, just as yours is, or Domitian's is, or Vito's. But how can I weigh the value of my life against the value of the life of any of those who were on the street today? I'm sure that our little revolution would stagger on without my help, but how much damage would be done to the widows or orphans left behind in the wake of interference from the Sicambrii? How much potential suffering would have to result before it is pragmatic for me to risk sacrificing myself for the greater good? How much is my life worth, compared to that of any other citizen in this city?"

  "I didn't think you were much of a philosopher," Alexandra remarked.

  "I'm not," Marcus said. "As of late, I have, however, become very sensitive to the suffering which I see everywhere I go. All around us, people suffer and die for all sorts of reasons...if I were more cynical, I would wonder what use our efforts are. Fortunately, I am no longer so cynical as I once was, thanks in la
rge part to you." Alexandra stared intently at Marcus, but his stone-faced expression gave no clue as to his intentions. Marcus continued: "Alexandra, it is through your grace that I have begun to come to grips with the world again. Yes, I realize that my own efforts have been partially responsible for overcoming my grief, but I seriously doubt that I would be half the man I am today without your influence over me. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me, just by being exactly who you are."

  "You do not need to thank me for anything, Marcus," Alexandra said, breaking into a brief pause in Marcus' monologue. Tears of joy were began to well up in her eyes. "And I do hope you know that I feel much the same way. You have brought joy to my life that I never realized was possible before I left these insular walls."

  "That joy," Marcus said, "that very joy is what I'm getting at. What I'm trying to get at. That is...well, there's only one possible way for me to say this, so I'll just get to it. I love you, Alexandra. I don't know what will happen in the days to come, but I do know this: I have already drawn tremendous strength from you, and it is that strength which has carried me this far. I do not...I will not, and cannot, hide what we have from the world. I want you to be my wife, Alexandra. I want us to face the challenges of life together, regardless of how difficult things may get...I want that strength of ours, and that joy, to shine through to the rest of the world. I have been thinking about a question we were pondering many months ago, when we were in Alealnar. The problem we faced was how to keep the cycle of violence between ourselves and the barbaric hordes which plague these parts from continuing, and I did not know.

  "I know the answer now: the answer is not military might, for although we may crush their bodies, bodies are mere flesh and blood. They heal and they grow, and even if they are destroyed, the spirit lives on in the hearts and minds of the deceased's brethren. It is thus that military might is not the answer. The answer that I struggled so hard to find is this, and this only: love. All the swords, the spears, the shields, and the polished armour in the world are fundamentally limited by their violent nature; they only beget more violence. Love, on the other hand...love begets love. When we stand side by side before the Sicambrii, clad in the glory of our full battle regalia, our victory can only be temporary. When we stand before them as a shining beacon of hope and love...it is then that our victory shall resound throughout the ages. Will you do me the ultimate honour, Alexandra, by becoming my wife?"