Our Eternal Curse I (6 page)

Taking leave from their legions
at the war’s end young officers made all haste for Rome.  They could not stay
for long as most of them had been posted for service throughout the Republic
because while Rome had been busy with domestic problems some of the dissident
countries under their charge had used the Marsic War as an opportunity to
rebel.  Many had stopped paying tribute to Rome and because most of the legions
had been recalled to Italy to fight the domestic war, tax evaders and in a few
cases rebellions had gone largely unpunished.  Battle hardened Roman armies
were now on their way to the four corners of the Roman world to teach them all
another lesson.  They were going to make more terrible examples of these
ungrateful perpetrators of insurrection but before they departed the young
officers were determined to enjoy a few weeks of fun in their capital.

The people of Rome loved
soldiers at this moment they all knew that at the very least they had been
saved from a very violent occupation.  The Italian tribes may even have sacked
the city just as the wild men from Gaul had done nearly 300 years before and
they felt a debt of gratitude to every young man who had fought on their
behalf.

The atrocities committed in the
countryside had driven many refugees into the city which now housed over a
million people and some suburbs of Rome were becoming overcrowded and very
dangerous.  In the poorer areas people were crammed into every available space
and lived as best they could.  With this extra population came social problems
such as unemployment, food shortages, disease and inevitably violent crime. 
The problem of feeding the extra mouths was compounded by the fact that much of
the food that once fed them had came from Italy and many of the refugees were
the very people who had managed that food production.  Most of the productive
land now lay in waste and the peasants who worked the land were disorganized,
dead, or banished.

Despite the tax increases and
food shortages all of the people felt happy.  The war had been won and they
understood that liberty came at a price.  They smiled at young officers as they
passed because it was better to be hungry in an overcrowded city and paying
inflated taxes than dead or enslaved.

Taking advantage of the mood in
Rome all of the young officers wore their dress uniforms.  Showing off their
battle honors they were an impressive group of young men with well-proportioned
bodies who looked every inch the Roman aristocrats they were about to become. 
Every door was open to the young men who showed off their leather, gold and
silver breastplates formed to fit their shape by the finest craftsmen.

Like all Romans they spent hours
at the baths each day steaming and receiving various kinds of massage.  Then
there were the endless rounds of dinner parties arranged in their honor.  They
were after all very eligible bachelors and many patrician families were
parading their daughters in front of them in an attempt to bring one of them
along with any wealth and status they may possess into their families.  The
young officers enjoyed the adoration of young women and many marriages were
brokered during the heady weeks after the victory, but in all of the revelry
there was one sad and lonely person who would never be introduced to young men
or carouse in the streets.

The first quarter of the war had
been a completely grey area for Julia as she drifted through a pain-filled
depression of terrible proportions.  It was not a physical pain but a mental
anguish that seemed to have no fathomable depth, no sides to grasp onto, or a
horizon from which to take a bearing.  It was all encompassing, mind-wrenching
agony that could not be discarded or forgotten and as her sad and lonely
journey progressed Julia’s mind began its inevitable change.  Like the
caterpillars she had watched changing to moths in the olive groves Julia spun a
protective cocoon of thoughts in which she hid from the endless sorrow of
living.

Things started to become clearer
when seen from within her pain-filled isolation, the world was a bad place and
all anyone could expect to do was survive.  Her conclusion took its direction
from all of the experiences that made up her pathetic life and based on that
information the inescapable course of action was to build a wall around her
mind and never let anyone in ever again.

Bathing her every day for a
seemingly endless first six months of the war Cecilia could see that Julia was
facing a bigger demon than unrequited love, she simply had no confidence or
belief in herself.  Cecilia like everyone else understood that people who
looked pleasing to the eye had a much easier time than plain people but Julia
possessed none of the certainty that a girl with great beauty usually had. 
Never really knowing quite what effect her therapy was having Cecilia
instinctively lavished love and affection on the spent girl by repeating over
and over how beautiful and intelligent she was.

Without understanding the
meaning of Cecilia’s words the rhythmic voice was always there like a distant
star that could be seen from within Julia’s endless turmoil.  However far she
drifted off course during that journey of the mind this star was always there
to give her a connection with reality and Julia owed her sanity to this single
act of commonsense.  At first she did not understand the changes caused by
something positive moving freely through her unconscious thoughts because her
crushed mind found them alien, even a little frightening but as time went by
she began to enjoy the warm emotions which slowly brought her back from a dark
oblivion.

Much relieved Cecilia encouraged
Julia to talk about her troubles and while crying often the latter released
some of her deeply held pain.  It was ridiculous to imagine that a thought
converted into speech then returned to her memory could be any different but
the reality was that these uncomfortable thoughts became easier for Julia to
bear.  In her heart she believed it to be silly nonsense, all in her
imagination but she could not deny that she felt stronger every time she transformed
a childhood hurt from the secrecy of her mind into words.

For the latter half of the first
year of the war and all of the second Cecilia and Julia spent each morning
following the news of the fighting and during this time they became
inseparable.  Other than self preservation the topic of war held no fascination
for Cecilia but it did seem to aid Julia’s recovery so she persevered.  It
somehow gave Julia’s fragile mind something constant to focus upon, and Cecilia
perceived correctly that following a specific subject gave Julia’s troubled
mind a focal point from which to grow.

As a by-product of this mental
exercise Julia became an expert on the subject of war and while reading about
every intricate strategy of every battle she learned about the Italian
provinces where the major conflicts had taken place.  Julia had even marked
them on one of Sulla’s old military maps which Cecilia hung on the kitchen wall
at the beginning of the hostilities, she also followed the Senatorial reports
which were posted around the city each day and Julia felt intimately involved
with every twist and turn of the armies of Marius in the north and Sulla in the
south.  Like everyone in Rome Julia cried when the news of Marius’ stroke
reached the city but unlike everyone else she did not switch her adoration to
Sulla, a strange state of affairs when one considers that he was her sole
benefactor.

By the end of the war Julia was
acting like a more confident person able to maintain stability for minutes,
sometimes hours.  She desperately wanted to believe Cecilia when she told her
that she was a beautiful person with much to offer but invariably slid back
into her insecure state of mind after even the most fleeting of negative
thoughts.  Julia’s situation was akin to changing a devout person’s religious
belief.  After a lifetime of worshiping the same Gods, one can argue with the
believer, one can tell them that their faith is wrong even that their Gods do
not exist.  The believer may even try to see your point of view but deep down
they just instinctively know that you’re wrong.  Julia’s misguided neuroses had
reached this category of a faith and was far too deeply held to be changed by a
well-meaning house slave like Cecilia.

Much to Cecilia’s frustration
telling Julia that she was extremely intelligent was just as futile.  She
simply believed deep in her core that she wasn’t bright because her parents had
conditioned her to think that way.  Cecilia refused to believe Julia when she
said that she felt ugly and stupid, how could she?  Her eyes did not lie, she
had spent months caring for her wonderfully well-formed body with its clear,
soft skin, Julia possessed beauty without comparison and a remarkable ability
to learn, it was all irrefutable evidence and Cecilia never gave up trying to
convince the girl she had grown to love like a daughter.

By way of humoring Cecilia,
Julia developed a persona of pretence and inevitably her clever but warped mind
took the next step.  It dawned on her that if she could fool someone as close
as Cecilia she may also be able to fool others into believing that she had
worth.  This idea grew into a distorted plan and Julia’s new life began with
this major flaw as its basis.  Leaving Sulla’s home for the first time in many
months she set off to test her warped theory.

Calpurnius the jeweler was happy
to see Julia return after such a long absence.  He had been wondering if the
war harmed her in some way but now she was coming back to his shop each day to
spend time with the “lions” she still worshiped.  He noticed the change in her,
there was a confidence which had not existed before and something else,
something he could only describe as a hunger.  Before the war she was content
with trying on her favorite piece but now she spoke constantly about the day she
would be able to purchase her “lions”.  Calpurnius did not know it but Julia’s
growing obsession was born of her inability to accept herself as an
impoverished, parentless concubine.  She now craved security which in her
damaged mind translated to wealth and possessions.

“
Everything will be fine when I have enough money to
buy my ‘lions’ I will be happy then,” she told Calpurnius.  He wondered where a
humble housemaid was going to get such a large amount of money but as always he
humored Julia because he enjoyed trying to sell jewelry to the men who came
into get a closer look at her beauty.

With growing strength Julia
began using her more frequent shopping trips to build her confidence by talking
to everyone she met.  Whenever possible she engaged the refugees who had fled
Italy during the war in long conversations.  There were so many of them each
with a tragic story to tell and Julia drained them all of any information that
may be useful.

As herself assurance grew she
became an accomplished conversationalist and an authority on the subject of
Italian life.  As more and more people were apparently fooled by her contrived
self-belief Julia hatched a plan which grew in parallel with her poise and when
she eventually told Cecilia the plot her surrogate guardian marveled at its
simplicity.

“
I am the daughter of a Roman merchant from
Brundisium in the south of Italy.  My father was killed during the war and I am
now living with my mother in Rome,” said Julia quite categorically.

“
Am I to assume that I am your mother from
Brundisium?” asked a skeptical Cecilia.

“
I can be an orphan if you prefer — the Italians
killed many families — mine could be just another one of them.”

“
No I believe your mother survived and traveled with
you to Rome.”

“
Good I want a rich, noble Roman as a husband and
for that I must be of a good Roman family.”  With these words Julia had
metamorphosed the psychologically damaged little girl who entered the chrysalis
into a chronically damaged woman with a clearly defined purpose.

Circus Maximus was abuzz with
two hundred thousand expectant voices driven to frenzy by the brutality of the
opening events.  Dead gladiators and dismembered animals lay on every part of
the track and while their butchered bodies were being dragged away the
multitude bayed for the great chariot race to begin.  This time the Senate had
picked the rabbles faltering mood and hastily arranged a holiday to distract
their feeble minds from the lack of food, social unrest and even more
exorbitant taxes.

All too soon the euphoria of
beating the Marsi had worn off and with the treasury almost emptied by war, the
people were having to bear the cost of sending armies all around the world
themselves.  All Romans understood the old adage, speculate to accumulate, but
they hated scrimping while they’re supposedly elected Senators continued to
live like kings.  Austerity would have been the logical course of action but in
their usual style and by way of a quick fix the Senate arranged a day at the
Circus and wine by the wagonload.  Their simple plan was to get the populace
plastered and hope like hell that revenue would be returning from the empire
before the metaphorical hangover wore off.

Sitting near the Senatorial box
in a state of shock Julia could hardly believe what had just transpired.  She
and Cecilia were attending the Circus as guests of Gavius, their friendly oil
merchant, and until the gladiatorial carnage began, Julia had innocently
believed that they were there simply to watch a chariot race.  How could she reconcile
the wonderful images in the stands with slaughter on the track?   Even now the
beautifully colored fans which waved in the hands of brightly dressed
spectators looked like giant butterflies flapping over a meadow of flowers
while below them, bullock teams dragged away vile scenes from the underworld.

Feeling quite nauseated Julia
turning to her tremendously obese oil merchant to ask, “What drives these
clearly sophisticated people to enjoy such a primitive spectacle?”

Looking a little put out Gavius
replied, “Gladiatorial combat is a very old and sacred part of our tradition. 
For hundreds of years two slaves have fought to the death at the funeral of
their master.”

“
Looking around me I see sophistication within all
forms of Roman life but this?” Julia was finding herself lost for words.

Seeing the look of horror on
Julia’s face the fat man was clearly trying to understand her point of view and
said in a sympathetic tone, “It is simply a part of our civilization.” And, “It
has grown into a very big business.”

“
Do all Romans fight like this?”

“
By the heavens no!” Just the thought of such a
thing covering him in sweat.

His explanation had not
justified the Roman blood lust but combining cruelty with big business had hit
a nerve with Julia.  She thanked Gavius politely and turned back towards the
track for another look at hell to find herself looking into the face of a very
handsome young officer standing ten rows down towards the track.  As though
caught in a beam of light he stood motionless just staring at her through big
brown eyes.

Fighting back her customary
anger Julia chose this moment to test Cecilia’s credibility.  He is not staring
because I am a freak she told herself reluctantly, he is staring because I am
beautiful.  Unable to really believe her own thoughts Julia smiled a wonderful
smile which to her pleasure and amazement sent the good-looking young man even
deeper into an obviously helpless stupor.

Delighted by the success of her
newfound power Julia lifted her fan in the coy manner she had seen other women
employ and as she practiced being bashful Julia’s attention was drawn to her
right.  Everyone but she and the helpless young man were now looking in that
direction.  Having turned to see what she was missing Julia’s heart skipped a
beat and sudden fear charged through her body.  The cause of the people’s
interest was Sulla who stood motionless at the front of the Senatorial box and
the applause he provoked built gradually until it reached thunderous
proportions.  Fighting to control her panic Julia calmed herself with the
realization that her face would appear as just one of many in the crowd and
while she could see him clearly he would be unable to single her out.

How fantastic he looked wearing
his military dress uniform instead of his Senatorial toga like all of the
others in the box.  Even through her anger and hatred she found his appearance
truly mesmerizing. 
If only he had not broken her heart?  If only he loved
her as she loved him?
  If only he would walk through the crowd and make everything
better but she knew in her heart that he wasn’t going to do that.  The truth
was he had broken her heart and it was inevitable that he was going to hurt her
again and the thought of it made her very angry.

Wailing inside Julia admired how
the red tunic draped with thongs of leather showed off his well-formed legs
perfectly.  His manservant had obviously polished the silver body armor because
at certain angles its shine became quite blinding.  A brilliant crimson cloak
hung from two metal rings on either side of his breastplate and flowed
dramatically over his broad shoulders.  His ivory-handled sword hung from a
pure white, leather, shoulder strap which crossed his body and on his head he
wore the grass crown made by his soldiers on the day of his greatest victory. 
It was the ultimate accolade for a Roman general given only to those whose
actions saved an army and all of the people in the crowd knew it.  He looked
like one of the great Gods of Rome and at that very moment Julia knew he would
be arrogantly comparing himself to Mars God of War.

Her lovelorn anger was
compounded by the way he smiled humbly and let the accolades of the people wash
over him. 
Why could they not see through this act?
 Was she the only
one who knew he didn’t have a humble bone in his spectacular body?

Julia knew Sulla would have been
working on his speech for days because he needed to make a good impression. 
Julia also knew that he wanted to become one of this year’s two Consuls of Rome
and a great speech today would impress the Senators who were to vote in the
election.   Watching his beautiful lips forming their first word Julia became
suspended by his charisma, she felt herself longing to hear his voice, but
before he could deliver his bid for power a spontaneous roar filled the arena. 
Amplified by the shape of the Circus Maximus it was the loudest thing she had
ever heard and judging by the look on Sulla’s face it also confused him
greatly.  Had it come at the end of his speech she could understand but why
now?  Then it dawned on her the attention of the crowd was focused on something
else something behind him.  He obviously wanted to look but feared that turning
his back on the crowd would lose their attention completely.  Julia guessed
that curiosity must be burning within him as it became increasingly clear that
he must turn or be the only person facing away from this new center of
attention.  At the very moment Sulla decided to make his turn the multitude let
them both know what had happened to his moment of glory.

“
MARIUS!” “MARIUS!” “MARIUS!” they shouted in one
voice.

Spinning around Sulla could not
believe his eyes.  Incredibly there he stood supported by little Julius Caesar
just standing on the top step at the back of the Senatorial seating area, half
of his body limp and his face forming its wilted scowl.

Unbeknown to Julia, Sulla or the
multitude Marius had entered the stadium at that precise moment purely by
coincidence and it was the first time he had been seen in public since his
second stroke.  Too proud to be carried his decision to walk slowly up the
stairs brought him into the stadium at the very moment of Sulla’s glory and
Julia could tell that the exhausted man looked genuinely sorry for stealing
Sulla’s thunder.  The crowd would not be silent and because of their sheer
volume other people close by the Circus Maximus picked up on their chanting. 
Before long the noise spread along alleyways and streets until eventually all
of Rome cried:  ‘“MARIUS!” “MARIUS!” “MARIUS!”

Julia was the only one who
returned her gaze to the face of Sulla and what she saw in his eyes was pure
hatred and jealousy.  He was outraged and for just a brief moment he was unable
to hide his emotions and Julia understood immediately that when it came time to
exact vengeance her best point of entry would be through the family of Gaius
Marius.

Fighting back his anger Sulla’s
scowl changed to a broad theatrical smile as he walked up the steps from the
speaking platform to join Marius.  He could not be seen to hate the Father of
Rome so at the top of the stairs he grasped Marius with both hands and kissed
him dramatically on each cheek.

The crowd erupted again; this
was the best moment for everyone two heroes embracing one another on their
victory holiday.  The Senators all approved of what was happening, this was
pure theatre, not one person in the crowd was thinking about tax or food.

Sulla eventually delivered his
speech and everyone loved its focus on optimism and the greatness of Rome he
always knew what the crowd wanted to hear.  The chariot race was as good as
anyone could have hoped for, of the 8 charioteers in the race two died very
dramatic deaths and one was maimed severely.  The winner, as luck would have
it, was Roman the Gods were indeed smiling on the Senators this day.

At the conclusion of the day’s
racing the Senators filed out of their place of privilege and the common people
shuffled towards their exits.  Julia made sure that she walked in the direction
of the wide-eyed young officer who stood like a statue as the exiting crowd
moved around him.  His position was very inconvenient but it was obvious to all
that he was not going to move for anyone.  Failing in his attempt to be
surreptitious he watched Julia move slowly nearer until she stood inches away
but much to her surprise he said nothing.  The crowd stopped moving for one
brief moment but still he said nothing, his nerve completely gone.  About to
fall back into the old insecure belief of herself Julia’s fan dropped directly
in front of him and while handing it back a nervous whisper passed his lips,
“Gaius Marius.”

“
Pardon?” asked Julia.

“
My name … My name is Gaius Marius,” he was clearly
terrified.

“
You don’t look like Gaius Marius.”  Julia’s cheeky
smile lit her face as she took the fan from his shaking hand.

“
Not the real Gaius Marius … I mean … Well, I mean
to say … I’m his son.”  The words blurted from his bright red face.

“
Pleased to meet you Young Gaius Marius,” replied
Julia as though his information was fresh, but Julia had recognized him as the
son of the great man at the very moment their eyes met.  She remembered him
clearly from the day she and Cecilia watched him riding in the wagon when
Marius was brought back from the war.

Cecilia was delighted by the
speed and arrogance of Julia’s reply.  It showed a level of confidence which
had never existed before and she felt partly responsible for its existence. 
The role of proud mother was instinctive for Cecilia.  Julia was the daughter
she would never have and she desperately wanted her newfound offspring to find
the love she herself had been denied.  Cecilia had no idea what her innocent
act of nudging Julia’s fan was about to unleash on this unsuspecting boy and
eventually Rome.

Escorting Julia and Cecilia home
from the races Young Gaius came out of his shell little by little but the
obvious contrast between his shy personality and the legendary extroversion of
his father surprised them both.  So painfully shy Young Gaius seemed far too
gentle to be a Roman soldier.  He freely admitted that he was no great general like
his father but nonetheless he was proud to be a willing fighter for Rome.

Julia thought of him more as an
innocent boy than a fighting man as he spoke openly about his controversial
political beliefs.  Without a hint of caution Young Gaius explained that while
moving around Italy with the army it had become clear to him that his father
was correct about the tribes, Romans and Italians were one and the same.  In
his view the conflict had been civil war pure and simple, a war that should
have been avoided by giving Roman citizenship to the leaders of the great
tribes.

As for the terrible atrocities
at the end of the war Young Gaius was disgusted and frustrated that his lone
voice could not prevent the carnage.  He spoke openly about things that polite
Romans dare not mention at this time.  So many lives had been lost and no one
wanted to hear that it was all in vain.  Searching for gullibility in his face
Julia found courage, he was not simply repeating the opinions of his father —
this was a man of conviction!

She was tempted to join in when
Young Gaius talked about Italians paying Roman taxes for hundreds of years and
their young men being conscripted from the age of seventeen.  Julia’s father
had spent many years fighting for Rome and according to her mother’s ranting
had never been the same since.  She agreed with his opinions but biting her lip
Julia said nothing because her peasant background was something that he was
never going to hear about.