“Sir, is that wise? I am not a knight or a member of the senate. Certainly, an older and wiser officer should take command of Rome’s defenses.” Gaius was humbled and troubled at the same time by Paullus’ command that it should be he that carries out Rome’s defense.

“Do you feel that you are notup to the task, Gaius?” Paullus asked as he raised himself up a bit on his elbows.

“No, sir, I am more than ready, if that is your orders.”

“It is.”

“Some might argue this,” Gaius added.

“Not with this.” Paullus reached, squinting in pain, which nearly caused Gaius to step over to him and help, but he held back as the older man grabbed a sealed roll.

“If anyone, and there will be more than a few that will give you trouble about you taking command of the city’s defenses, show them this. The Senate will back it up.” Paullus handed the document over to Gaius, who took it and carefully stared down at Paullus’ crest, which had been sealed in wax.

“My orders are in writing. No one will dare to cross you, not until the threat has passed.”

“Yes, sir. I won’t let you down, sir.”

“Very good. I won’t keep you from your duties any longer. You are dismissed.”

“Consul,” Gaius nodded and was about to turn and leave Paullus, but he quickly called Gaius again, low and barely auditable.

“Sir?” Gaius had the feeling since he first came that Paullus hadn’t summoned him just for a report or to give him some last minute orders.

“Will you go see her, Julia, when we are back in the city?” Paullus asked.

Gaius hesitated for a moment. He had thought about little else over the past few days when he had a moment to his own thoughts.

“I–I doubt I will be able to for some time. I must see to the city’s defense and coordinate with whatever officers remain within Rome,” Gaius answered, speaking the truth, but also knowing he was avoiding the fact that he didn’t want to face her, not just yet.

“I understand. I…” Paullus paused again, “Don’t think I could see her right now either. Not like this. Not after everything…”

“I understand, sir,” Gaius replied as Paullus turned his head away from him, seemly more frail and weaker than ever.

It pained him greatly to see the man as he was, broken and beaten. He could see in Paullus’ eyes the weight and guilt he carried on his shoulders. He lost the army, his army. Death might have spared him the torment of knowing that. But he had lived when so many tens of thousands had not.

Neither man said more as Gaius turned and left, leaving Paullus alone with his own doubts and painful thoughts.

Gaius walked through the gates of Rome four times in his life. Twice it was jubilant; the city was new to him and full of wonders. He thought he could have lost himself. But now, like before, after the defeats at Trebia and Trasimene, the city was foreign to him — a ghost of brick and marble. Those few thousand city guards who had remained behind, those that had not abandoned their posts and fled with their families had long faces and tired eyes. The return of the Sixth Legion and the survivors of Cannae were not enough to give them hope, as the column of soldiers marched through the gates in the pouring rain.

Gaius tried as best he could monitor the long march into the city. He had sent one cohorts in first so that they could take positions along the walls, while leaving the last two outside to protect the rear. He set up an unbroken chain of communications, starting five miles beyond the city limits, to his current position. If even a hare was spotted, he would know of it within ten minutes. The walking wounded, sick and wounded were then allowed into the city once he was certain he had set up a strong defense. He made sure that his prisoners were brought into the city through a different gate. He couldn’t afford to have them making any trouble, or more so, the Roman guards wanting to exact their built-up aggressions and fears on those men, not until each had been debriefed for whatever information they could reveal.

After, Gaius assumed that all of them would be tortured and then crucified — placed outside the city walls as a warning to any future slave who may think of siding with Hannibal. Unfortunately, while Gaius would have preferred to have stayed with his men until every last one of them was safely inside the city walls, he had been hounded continuously by officers and aids to the Senate. Their questions were endless and asked with such frequency that he barely had time to answer one before another was asked.

Always the questions were the same: Where was Valerius? Where was Paullus? What of co-consul, Varro — did he survive as well? Who was in command of the Sixth? When the various officers finally accepted the realization of the truth, their concerns were more relaxed. They wanted to know how the Sixth had survived Cannae. Had they encountered Hannibal or knew of his whereabouts? What of the gladiator army? Was it still a threat? The questions continued for hours without pause.

Between the interrogation, Gaius had some of his own questions answered. He learned that a few thousand men had survived Cannae, and had managed to make it back to Rome over the past two weeks. However, most of those men had since deserted, gathering their families and meager possessions and fled, along with a full two quarters of Rome’s population. Those that remain were placed along the walls, and what was left of the civilian population, mostly the young and old, were drafted or had volunteered to defend the city. They were given what training they could, and then placed on the walls. Even if they could not fight, it was hoped that with enough numbers, if Hannibal and his army should come, he would think twice about directly attacking Rome.

To his surprise, the central core of the Italian peninsula had remained loyal to Rome, which gave hope that with time, more men could be levied to rebuild the army. However, some cities had deserted to Hannibal after the word spread about Cannae, such as Capua, which sent shivers through the minds of every Roman. If such a great city could side against Rome, who might follow next?

The Senate, which had already lost dozens of members during the Battle of Cannae, was in tatters. A third of its body had fled as its members had taken their wealth and families to other boarders — where, Gaius couldn’t imagine, as Hannibal seemed to be everywhere and anywhere. Nevertheless, everyone, the Senate and the people alike, knew that Rome was a target. Its fall would symbolize not just the end of the war, but the end of the Republic as well. What would follow — cowardice or not, few wanted to face the day after the Rome crumbled.

Order would have to be reestablished, and Gaius hoped with Paullus recovery that it could begin soon. However, right now no one is very optimistic. By the time the rain had finally stopped falling and the sun was well past its zenith, Gaius had given the order for the rest of his men outside the city to be brought in. He would keep dozens of riders outside, as they scouted the surrounding countryside for days still to come. Even so, for the first time in a very long time he could breathe.

He felt weak in his knees and suddenly very hunger, but more so, unbelievably tired. When he was certain that there were no more officers seeking him, and if there were, he didn’t care, Gaius walked through the empty city, taking his time. His destination was the army hospital that he had sent the wounded and sick hours before.

As he walked through its halls, checking on the still recovering wounded, he took the time to stop and chat with those that could speak. Those that couldn’t, he tried as best as he could to reinsure them that they were safe and back home. It took hours more for him to see everyone, and he grew more tired as a result. It didn’t matter as he had one last person he needed to see before this day was done.