Valerius grunted his reply, knowing all too well what had caught his young officer’s eye.
Looking backward over his shoulder Gaius saw the exotic woman giggling with the girls who stood with her, before she glanced over towards him, still with a big smile on her face.
He continued to watch her until his vision was obstructed by the dense crowds, disappointed. He suddenly realized that some things were indeed quite different than the last time he was in the city — things his eyes couldn’t have appreciated ten years ago, now served only to pique his curiosity as he wondered what other hidden gems Rome held tucked away.
Slowly, the narrow streets began to open as they rode into the great Forum of Rome, which house the Senate, the Temple of Jupiter and other assorted government and religious buildings.
The forum was filled with thousands of people. Dozens of shops had been set up where merchants sold items from across the Mediterranean: rugs from Persia, silk from Africa, Slaves from all corners of the known world, each auctioned in open markets as hundreds of buyers eagerly placed bets on the best bodies, strongest men, youngest boys or shapely women.
In the distance, Gaius could see a large wooden structure that housed an open theater. Currently, a play was being shown to the crowd of adults and children that laughed and jeered at the performance of a strange-looking man, who wore a multi-colored dress and white-painted face. He carried an over-sized shield and sword. His hair was colored gold and was curled. Top his head was an unpleasant helmet that was adorned with large white feathers. In his crotch, hung a huge fake penis that the actor frequently waved and pointed at the audience, drawing a chorus of cheers and laughter from them; its meaning completely lost on Gaius as he watched from afar.
Two bare-breasted women ran around the stage as a very short man, only as tall as a small boy, perused them with his hands held out, trying to grab them from behind.
The tiny man was dressed in the fashion of a Persian king; dark clothing with long black curled hair and a thick beard. He acted like a clown as he chased the two women, who screamed out until finally, the gold-locked man stepped between them, and smacked the short king over his head with the fake sword, and then poked him with his oversized penis as the little man fell.
The king dropped to his knees and began to plead for his life. The hero, however, stood over him and waved his prop over the defeated man’s head.
The crowd loved all of it even though not a word had been uttered on stage, but soon Gaius began to recognize some of the similarities in the play as the story of Alexander the Greats conquest of the Persian Empire.
He smiled even though he felt that the historic interpretation of the actors was terribly wrong.
“The people don’t seem to be too concerned about the prospect of war,” Gaius commented to Valerius as the two stepped down from their horses once they reached the Roman Senate.
“Bah. War is only an inconvenience to most of these people. Nothing that would actually affect their mood; and besides, most the dying will come from the allies any ways,"” Valerius snarled.
Gaius looked up at the Senate. The sizeable structure that hosed the power behind the Republic wasn’t entirely what he was expecting, as the Curia wasn’t grand or set high upon a hill like the Acropolis in Greece. It looked more like a large house, built in a simple fashion, set against some of the most important structures in Rome. It was painted red and purple and adorned with flowers. Banners of the Republic draped down the side of the building, while the two large heavy wooden doors that led into the Senate were currently wide open, indicating that session was in order and any citizen was technically invited to listen to the hearings, although, most did not bother or dared to set foot inside.
Still, Gaius did not let his imagination overshadow the importance of the building. He knew inside were the most powerful men in Rome — those that commanded the loyalty of the people and the army, governed the provinces, and ensured that Rome’s light shine the brightest in the world. And, while the Senate did not make or pass the laws, their collective voices helped shape the course of Rome’s future.
Gaius was so intrigued by the Senate building that he failed to notice what greeted him.
Along the base of the walls was a row of beggars, many of whose hands were stretched out as they pleaded for coins from the numerous citizens passing by.
The wretched souls looked as if they had just crawled out from their own graves, and took residence in front of the symbol of power. Their clothing was a mix of tattered rags and patch-work of other garments and as Gaius came closer to them, their smell was unbearable, which was made worse by the rain.
Most of the men, far too sad and miserable to look at, seemed to be living ghosts, their faces were pale and hair matted. All of them looked older than their true age would have testified to.
Their wary eyes stared up at Gaius as he was forced to walk passed them in order to reach the Senate doors. A few of the beggars raised their hands out towards him, asking without words for a few coins. Gaius, feeling sick from their smell, ignored them as he held his breath and continued up the steps.
As he reached the Senate doors, he let out a gasp and breathed in fresh air. Even now, he was still able to smell their filth. It made him want to throw up. He was ashamed that a man could let their lives fall to such ruin that he wished they would just go away, swept down the gutters like the trash, carried off by the rain water.
Gaius was about to speak to Valerius, who he assumed was still with him; no doubt having to also hold his breath and hurriedly climb the Senate steps to avoid the beggars. However, when he looked back Valerius was nowhere to be seen.
And then Gaius saw him, strangely standing at the base of the steps talking to several of the beggars, seemly asking a pair of men questions.
Gaius couldn’t hear what was being said, not over the rain and the chorus of voices that carried over the forum. A moment later he watched as Valerius reached to his belt, removing a small leather bag that was attached to his waist, before tossing it, along with its contents of silver to the three men.
Gaius was dumbfounded as he watched the beggars rise to their feet, shake Valerius’ hand before they ran off, pushing through the bodies of citizens before disappearing from view.
“Who were those men? Did you know them?” Gaius asked as Valerius climbed the steps and joined him.
“I do not know. Just soldiers, like you and I.”
“Are you serious?” Gaius asked, the shock on his face evident as he looked back down at the beggars, studying them with careful attention. A number of them were indeed wearing the red tunics, although now badly faded and stained, of the legion.
“It is a disgrace that they have allowed themselves to fall so far.” Gaius spat as his eyes drifted away from the former legionnaires and back towards Valerius.
“Do not fault them, Gaius. Not every man was made to serve the legions, or has the body and mind to come home, after living through and seeing what most men will never experience.”
“Regardless, what makes you think they won’t spend the money you gave them on drink and women?” Gaius asked.
“I don’t know, and I do not care. It is no longer my money,” Valerius replied plainly.
“A waste of coin if you ask me,” Gaius commented rudely.
“Then it is a good thing I did not ask for your permission.” Valerius’ tone was controlled, not holding Gaius’ empty words to heart, but he was firm, nonetheless.
“Come; stop straining yourself on matters your young mind can’t possibly understand right now. You’ve yet to see a senatorial session. Wait until it has concluded, then your outlook on Roman life will be even more distorted than it is now.”