Caeles looked down the hill and wondered if they had come across 
some portal to the underworld. It was the port city of Fragosus, on 
the North Sea, their final destination after three weeks of almost 
constant march. Caeles looked down upon the city and shivered. 
He could see how the barbarians had marched through the city by 
the path the fire made. In the chill evening light, his goal against 
these beasts was apparent. Mistura had been told by her scouts and 
her advance troops that nothing remained of the mayor's villa. The 
bodies had been there; blackened and charred, of the mayor, his 
family, his slaves...They had even reported that the pets had been 
killed.

It sickened Caeles to think of the horrid peoples who would scorch 
and burn what he thought would have been quite a lovely little 
seaside town. He could tell that there were still some fires in the 
distant parts of the city. But then, Mistura had said that there were 
parts of the city in which disease had sprang up. An epidemic of 
some sort that had to be controlled. Some of the buildings had to 
be burned...Along with the people in them.

***

The Fate of Hearts
By
Joshua Trujillo

***

Part VII - Tools of the Trade

***

Caeles shifted on his horse again, easing it down the hill toward 
the main gates of the city, or rather, what was left of them. 
Fragosus had been, until recently, under siege. When Mistura's 
advance legionnaires were able to break the siege, some of the 
barbarians snuck in and burned parts of the city. The legionnaires 
helped the town put out the fires, but were caught unawares when 
the barbarians attacked again. Many Romans were killed by the 
sneak attack and it was something that spurred the rest of Mistura's 
forces to march faster. Mistura was hard on herself for not sending 
more troops than she had. Caeles had tried to comfort her by 
saying that she couldn't have known, but Mistura wouldn't listen. 
She replied that command was a lonely thing. That was a week 
ago.

As Caeles passed under the crumbling gates, a sense of deja vu 
swept over him. A little over a month ago, he was doing the same 
thing at Urba Tertius. The bend of the metal in the gates, as well as 
the scorch marks on the wood suggested that whoever was on the 
other side of the gates had kept someone, the barbarians 
presumably, from getting in for a long time. Then, when the fire 
spread, it was a barrier out. A single torch now rested in its holder 
on the inside of the gate, a source of light in the growing darkness.

The first sensation that hit Caeles was the smell. Waves of sooty, 
burned...things wafted to his nose. He rubbed his nose in response 
to the acrid stench, but couldn't relieve himself of it. It was a sight 
though, that made him forget about the smell.

As his group passed through the streets, Caeles looked into the 
eyes of Germania around him. A small girl looked up at him with 
her light, blue eyes. Her blonde hair marred by the soot from the 
streets and buildings around her, she watched as Caeles passed. He 
saw in her face trepidation and fear...Fear from the invaders, no 
doubt. Anger welled up in him at the sight of this orphan of war. 
This dirty little cherub, her dress as blackened as her face, he had 
looked upon and found his righteous anger more than warranted.

Everywhere he went as they rode through town, the cries of the 
sick and the dying. All he saw was hunger. And fear. Sometimes in 
equal measure, sometimes outweighed by the gratitude of the 
peoples in receiving them. Sometimes outweighed by what Caeles 
could only think to be hatred. He hated the people that did this too, 
he could understand. Mistura's troops set up camp on a nearby 
hillside, close enough to defend the city, but defensible themselves. 
The command group, which included Caeles, was to set up in an 
abandoned hotel about a block from the mayor's residence.

"How do you feel?"

Caeles looked up from his thoughts. It was Certus that had asked 
the question. He smiled slightly and waved a hand about him.

"Sick."

She nodded.

"I know it's hard Caeles, and for that, I'm sorry," Mistura said from 
her horse, "But I need you ready. We'll get you set up in a room 
and you get some sleep, okay?"

Caeles sighed heavily and nodded his assent.

***

The accommodations were nice enough. Someone among the 
group had even swept the rooms and hallways of soot, which 
seemed to be everywhere. Caeles just couldn't sleep anymore. He 
pulled his cloak closer to ward off the morning cold. A cold, which 
seemed to pervade as much as the soot. Caeles shifted around and 
looked up to the little table across the room. The candle had gone 
out long ago, taking what little heat and light it brought with it. He 
looked over to one side of the room, where he'd placed his small 
pack. He hadn't brought his tools with him and that was because 
Mistura had wanted to travel light. She had said something about a 
possible running fight, which didn't set too well with him.

He just hadn't wanted to leave his tools and his work at Urba 
Tertius. It was too precious to him to leave unprotected. For the 
sake of the Gods, what would any of them think if they found it? 
He tried not to think of that possibility and rolled over again. A 
grumbling lit from across the room and Caeles sighed. That was 
the other reason he couldn't sleep. Vivo snored. Heavily. Caeles 
had been able to get a little sleep early on, but then the snoring 
really got worse.

Caeles sighed. It was close to dawn anyway.

He got up and shuffled to the single window. He opened one of the 
soot covered, wooden-slatted panes and looked out across the 
town. He couldn't actually see much of the town itself, as the hotel 
was near the outskirts, but he could see out across a couple of the 
hills that surrounded the city. Torches moved in and around the 
makeshift graveyards that the hillsides had become. Caeles 
shivered, more from the thought of the dead at the doorstep than 
from the cold.

He presumed that the torches were from the legionnaires still 
working to bury the dead. But...Caeles thought for a minute. The 
dead should have all been buried hours ago, for they were well into 
doing that when the command group rode into town. Just how 
many dead WERE-

He stopped himself. Even between the townsfolk and the 
legionnaires that were killed in the siege, fire and sneak attack, the 
graves were still too numerous. Which only meant that the 
legionnaires working through the night out there were 
burying...barbarian dead...

But, Caeles asked himself, Why?

He couldn't imagine why, in the name of the emperor, they would 
bother burying the enemy dead? True, they would begin to smell 
after a while, but that's why you BURN them. Burial is something 
done out of respect and admiration for the dead, not simply 
hygiene. And there was plenty of wood in the surrounding forests 
that could be used to make a nice funeral pyre.

Caeles shook his head. They're barbarians...

They wouldn't do the same for us...

Would they?

Caeles looked back as Vivo grumbled something. Probably 
complaining about the window. Caeles smirked and closed the 
window against the growing light outside. He began to get himself 
dressed.

It was close to dawn.

***

Lagena sneezed. The cold of the night was starting to wear on her, 
but then, she could tell by the amount of light filtering through the 
central courtyard that it was nearing dawn. And therefore the end 
of her shift.

Currently, she was making the final round in the living quarters. 
Many of the doors either had markings on them, distinguishing 
them or the names of the people. Lagena passed her own door and 
smiled at the big, yellow sun on the door. She hoped that Certus 
was okay all the way up north, she had to look after the boy Caeles 
as well as General Kalendis, and that could be a chore. Certus was 
the one that had painted her sun yellow and she always liked that 
about her. Certus always treated everyone with an equal part of 
respect and kindness, no matter what she might have heard.

As Lagena moved on, she passed Lycisca's room. Lycisca had 
been one of the ones that had asked General Kalendis not to make 
her a captain in the Guard. Flustra had been cold to her, though 
that was no biggie. Even the Governor didn't like the idea of a 
slave with so much power. The General then told them it was 
either that, or she'd want Lagena freed. Honestly, Lagena didn't 
mind, so long as she kept her position. It was just as good as being 
free, without the annoyance of actually having to pay for anything, 
but people still hadn't liked her.

She didn't WANT to be a slave forever, but she realized the 
pragmatism of it. And then Certus came along. And she became a 
kind of glue that held everyone together. She became friends with 
Lycisca; she did work for the Governor concerning the town. She 
became General Kalendis' personal assistant and she honestly liked 
Lagena for, at least she said, her honesty. She was one of the only 
ones to freely admit she liked Lagena. To be a friend.

As Lagena passed the room assigned to Soter, she paused. The 
door was ajar. She looked up and placed the torch she had been 
carrying in a holder on the wall. It clinked slightly and she looked 
to the door again. Silence. Lagena crept up to the door and silently 
drew her sword. No one would get the drop on her. And no one 
would be stealing while the General was gone. After all, she had 
had left HER in charge. Lagena pushed open the door and frowned 
at the person seated at Caeles's table. The little candle on the table 
flickered as a slight gust blew around Lagena's ankles. The flame 
whispered its light against the bright, pale skin and was swamped 
in the blackness of her eye patch.

Flustra looked up from the table and back down again, not 
explaining her presence, her patch eye towards Lagena.

"What are you doing in here? This is HIS room, you know?" 
Lagena said, trying to keep quiet.

"It's early in the morning too," Flustra returned quietly.

Lagena snuffed and slid her sword back into its scabbard. She 
hated when Flustra tried to be sarcastic...

"I'm SUPPOSED to be up this early in the morning," she said as 
she put her hands on her hips, "So, why are you in his room?"

"I was wondering what he was thinking."

Lagena wrinkled her forehead in thought and shook her head.

"What?"

"I learned long ago that you can tell a person's thoughts from the 
possessions they keep," Flustra said, "Come see what I found."

"You were looking through his personal things?" Lagena asked.

"Yes," Flustra said as she turned her good eye to the redhead.

"Why?"

"Haven't you wondered what he's been writing on his tablet?"

"The one he carries everywhere?" Lagena asked.

Flustra nodded.

"I asked him about it a few days before they left and he just 
blushed and tried to avoid the subject," Flustra said, "And since 
coming in here during the day would cause too much of an issue-"

"You came in at night," Lagena finished.

Lagena sighed and shifted her helmet back as she scratched her 
forehead.

"Come see what I've found."

Lagena looked down the hall both ways and entered the room. She 
closed the door behind her and said a quick prayer that she 
wouldn't be discovered.

***

Caeles yawned as he came out of the hotel. He stretched and 
wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. He looked around and 
tried to get his bearings before he headed down one street. Most of 
the city's inhabitants had gone to sleep a long time ago and would 
most likely not wake up for a while. He looked absently at the sky 
ahead of him. His timing wasn't perfect, but the fog of the morning 
seemed thicker than it was in Pompeii. When he came down from 
his room into the lobby of the hotel, he had asked the legionnaire 
on duty which way he had to walk to the docks.

It caused a kind of panic because they wanted him guarded. Caeles 
asked him if there were pockets of bandits or barbarians hiding in 
the city. When the negative answer came, he explained that, in the 
silence of the morning, he'd be within shouting distance.

Caeles sniffed the air. Aside from the ever-present smoky smell, a 
new smell came. That of fresh bread. He smiled. Someone had 
gotten the bakery up and running again. That was good. Something 
to bring more life into the town, something to get it back to 
normalcy.

The docks were a few blocks to the north. All in all, not a very big 
town, but it had been built on the eastward side of a natural bay, 
which would be useful as a port. Perhaps it had more of a strategic 
property to it than Caeles had thought. It certainly wasn't a big city, 
not even really as big as his hometown. 

As his boots knocked against the cobblestones, his thoughts drifted 
back to his hometown. His last hometown, the one in which he 
spent most of his life, Herculaneum. It had all the necessities of 
any Roman town, but its proximity to Pompeii made it almost like 
a vacation town for many of Rome's elite. It was rather easy to see 
why his father chose it. The foster parents weren't cruel and it was 
easy to get tutors of enormous stature.

Caeles missed his pedagogue from Egypt, though. Living in 
Alexandria had been an experience and his pedagogue had been a 
good man. Quick witted and sharp tongued; he was also extremely 
kind and taught Caeles how to get a girlfriend when he wanted. He 
always admired that in his pedagogue. The ways of life would 
always be ready for Caeles. All he had to do was ask. He had a 
son, but Caeles couldn't remember his name. It had been too many 
years. He did remember that he enjoyed being around the son as 
much as being around the father. They were kind people.

The remainder of the piers jutted into the water like skeletal 
fingers, which were, like much of the town, covered in soot. Two 
of the four piers had been destroyed and only their supporting 
posts stuck out of the water. Caeles stopped, as there was a person 
at the end of one of the docks. He approached as quietly as he 
could, but couldn't help making noises on the dock. It was a 
woman. With long black, curly hair. Black almost to a shade of 
purple.

"Mistura?"

She turned a lazy eye to him.

"Hmm? Caeles?" she asked, "What're you doing up-oh, that's right, 
you're normally up now."

She turned back to a pole that was in her right hand, a line leading 
slightly forward into the waters below. Caeles wiped off a place at 
the end of the pier and sat down. He could see a bucket nearby that 
held two nice-sized fish.

"I normally watched the sunrise from the docks back when I lived 
in Pompeii," Caeles said as he looked out to the east.

Caeles sat and enjoyed the nice little silence that they shared. He 
stared across the foggy waters.

"Umm," he began, "How do you get all that hair up under a cap 
like you do?"

Mistura smiled.

"Isn't easy," she said, "It's just a formality now. I have to keep up 
appearances while I'm on campaign because you never know when 
you'll run in to other legionnaires."

The silence descended once again as the waves of the North Sea 
lapped gently against the pillars of the pier. The fog was lifting and 
Caeles smiled as his close friend came to him once again. The 
clouds rolled back across a storm that was far out at sea. Big, 
beautiful clouds that puffed up as high as the heavens, reflecting 
the early morning light into a thousand myriad shades of reds and 
golds and purples. The reflection of the empire, high as the 
heavens and reflecting the people in its' reds and golds and purples.

Caeles breathed out, very glad to be Roman. Something clicked 
that had struck him from earlier.

"I didn't know you liked to fish," he said.

Mistura smiled as she shifted position.

"Something that living in Urba Tertius has spoiled me for, I 
s'pose," she said, "Fresh fish. My father taught me to fish when I 
was very young. He always wanted a son and I suppose that, in the 
end, he got one."

Caeles turned his attention to the dawn once more as the sun itself 
peaked over the luminescent painting of the clouds below it. 
Mistura glanced back at him. He seemed so full of wonder at 
everything. The dawn, Urba Tertius. Even Flustra, though she 
could do that to anyone. Neocorus had said that the boy was the 
key in delivering all of Germania and much of the lands north of 
the Alps to Effero Soter.

She didn't believe it. He may even be a military genius. Neocorus 
obviously thought highly of him, but to just give all those lands 
over to his father? She doubted it. There was something that had 
gone on in the last couple weeks to change his attitude about the 
elder Soter. Something that he hadn't told anyone. When he 
arrived, it was just cold indifference. Now there seemed to be an 
almost active hatred. Mistura set that thought aside, she wasn't 
going to find the answers here, so the question could wait.

Mistura had her own ideas about the boy, though. To her, it was 
quite clear what happened. He was a kid who'd been pushed into 
something he never wanted. He never knew anything different, any 
other way of doing things, so he accepted it. He wasn't ignorant, 
really, but she would certainly say he was naive. If her own 
suspicions were right about this town, then he wouldn't stay that 
way for long. All for one man's grab at power...

Mistura felt a wave of anger and pain in her heart. She closed her 
eyes at the sensation, hateful of what it made her remember.

***

"Get up!"

It was not a voice that resonated in her head like the voices of the 
other fathers. It was a bleating voice, a pleading voice, a voice she 
hated. A voice she loved. Mistura opened her eyes and wiped the 
tears as they came more freely. When did she begin to cry?

"It hurt..." she said softly through her tears.

It hadn't, but there had to be some reaction, lest he have another 
reason to...

"Yes, it hurts!" he yelled at her in that voice of his, "That's because 
you're alive and not dead. Now get up!"

More tears came. She looked up at her father, but couldn't see his 
face. The sun blocked that out far overhead. She didn't need to see 
it to know what it looked like. She didn't need to see the sheep-like 
snarl. The man she hated. The man she loved. Why did she have to 
love him so?

"Those boys can't bully you!" he bleated again, "Teach them a 
lesson!"

Mistura looked across the plaza, to where the little ruffians were 
still milling about, playing with one another. They were young 
boys, no more, no less.

"But Daddy..." she started.

"Mistura!"

She began to cry again.

"Mistura!"

***

"Mistura?"

Mistura opened her eyes. She found herself staring into the water 
below. She wasn't in the plaza near her insula in Rome. It was 
many years later and she was one of the most respected generals in 
the empire. She continued to stare at the face in the water below.

"Mistura?" Caeles repeated, "Are you okay?"

She smiled slightly.

"Yeah," she said softly, "I was just thinking of my father."

"Oh..." Caeles nodded, "I understand completely."

Mistura looked to Caeles and smiled. Perhaps he did understand at 
that. She set her pole aside and stood up. She brushed herself off 
and looked out across the water. It was cool and it would get cold. 
It would get dark and she had a feeling it would get nasty. But for 
today, it was golden red.

Mistura turned to Caeles and helped him to his feet.

"Come," she smiled at him, "Walk with me."