Gaius turned and left Paullus alone. He hoped as he left that some good would come from this war for Paullus. That he would heed his advice and forgo all judgments of other and follow his heart. He deserved at least that much — a real chance to share his life with another that cared for him as considerably as he loved Julia.

When Gaius turned back one last time, he saw that Paullus was now standing with Claudia, speaking with her, not as a master but just as a man speaking to a woman as he held her hand. A small tear ran down her cheek as she listened to him with a warm smile. Gaius didn’t stay longer to see what happened next. He didn’t have to as her smile was all he needed to know.

He had what he wanted. He had Julia for himself. No rules, status, obligations or family could stand in their way now, save for one thing — his duty to Rome.

There was a bitter chill in the air. Fall was coming quickly, but Gaius didn’t mind, not one bit. He stood on a balcony looking out across Rome. The moon hung high overhead and the gentle breeze. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable with this city. Nothing grand happened since his return. Hannibal was still out there somewhere, and Maximus’ propositions were in its early stages. However, he was perfectly content.

Gaius smiled as he felt Julia’s arms wrap around his bare chest as she stood behind him, kissing him on his shoulders as she pressed her naked body up against his.

He returned her kiss as he placed his hands over hers and caressed them.

It had been several days now since Gaius had spoken with Paullus. The consul had been true to his words and had already released Julia of her marriage vows. She was his now, finally and there was nothing or anyone who could stand between them.

“What vexes you so that you leave the warmth of our bed?” Julia asked as she rested her head between his shoulders.

“Tomorrow I will leave for Spain,” Gaius answered.

“You worry about the deployment then?” she asked.

He turned and faced her, making sure that he kept her close to him, in his arms.

“I worry about leaving you. After so long, we have nothing to hide from — the chance to finally,” Gaius paused as he thought about what a future with, he would be like. He hadn’t gotten very far in his daydreams, which he had always believed were just fantasy. “I don’t know really. I don’t want to leave you here alone, again.”

“I have waited this long to be with you, Gaius. I can wait longer if I have to."

“It could be years. There is still much that needs to be done before we can be sure Rome is safe, no less actually winning this war. I’m afraid what might happen in that time, that I may not — ”

She placed her index finger over his lips, politely asking him to be still.

“What may come may come. We can’t dwell over what we cannot control.”

“But I could control it. I could ask to remain behind and help Rome in some other capacity. The Fifteen Legion will be left behind to protect the city. I could take a post with them.”

Julia smiled as she shook her head.

“I love you more.”

Julia placed her hand over Gaius’ heart and stared up at him.

“Perhaps so, but we both know it isn’t the same. Out there, beyond our borders lies your destiny, and you need to see it through to the end. I will always be right here waiting for you to return.”

“But I may not return at all,” Gaius added as he lowered his head.

“Then, if we can’t be together in this life, then the next. It will change nothing.”

Julia buried her head into his chest, wrapping her arms around him as she held onto him tightly.

“Just never forget what you have to live for,” she whispered. “You will come back to me. I know it.”

Mago had been on a long journey since last he spoke with his brother. He had spent a short time in Italy just before Cannae where Hannibal had crushed the consular army of a hundred thousand men. It was one of the proudest moments in Mago’s life seeing so many Roman’s dead. However, soon after, as Hannibal’s staff urged him to march on Rome and take the city, he had refused — failing to cease his great victory.

Hannibal then sent Mago back to Carthage to request more men, so that he may finish the war in Italy and bring Rome’s walls crashing down.

Mago had with him the rings and other markings of the Roman Senate and elite — thousands of small pieces of gold that had been stripped from still warm corpses following Cannae. When he stepped foot in the Senate, for the first time in his life, Mago threw the rings onto the Senate floor for all the leaders of Carthage to see with their own eyes what Hannibal had accomplished.

He spoke passionately about what he witnessed — three consuls dead, hundreds of thousands of Roman soldiers killed — whole settlements and communities destroyed, Italy was Hannibal’s.

Mago expected, with his words the Senate to bow to Hannibal’s wishes and rally their swords. The only question would be: how many soldiers should they send? However, that question never came.

When Mago finished his speech, those within the Senate, enemies of Hannibal, who had grown jealous of his success turned against him as they called him a warmonger — a tyrant and a traitor for instigating the conflict with Rome in the first place. It sickened Mago. These men were merchants and businessmen who cared only about money, and not the pride of their nation. And, before he knew, the whole Senate had rallied against Hannibal, calling his actions a crime as they turned their attention towards protecting Carthage’s interests from Rome, namely its territories in Spain.

Hannibal would not get any reinforcements as he hoped. Rome’s walls would remain strong and still standing, and he, as he began to lose support from his Gallic allies, was trapped, as his opponents under the leadership of the Dictator Fabius Maximus refused to confront him in open battle.

It was an embarrassment! Mago left furious as he was refused the chance to return to his brother after he was ordered by the Senate to take up command in Spain, and make ready for a new Roman offensive. And so he had been for the past five years, trapped, freezing his ass off, holding firm against the Scipio, a man unlike any Roman he had ever encountered — one that fought more like his brother.

Now, Mago returns to Italy with terrible news. He races to tell his brother in no short order that Spain had fallen — New Carthage had been taken by Scipio, and that Hannibal was cut off from his only reliable source for reinforcements and supplies. However, Mago would not get the chance to deliver his terrible message through words — just symbolically as a small bag was thrown by a Roman horseman over the high walls that surrounded Hannibal’s camp.

The bag was found momentarily by a Carthaginian soldier who read the notation that it was a message meant for Hannibal. He raced as quickly as he could across the camp to his leader’s tent where he presented the bag to him.

As Hannibal unfurled the string that sealed the bag shut, the smell alone indicated to him what it was, just not who.

A moment later, Hannibal pulled the severed head of his brother, Mago out from the bag; his white eyes rolled into his skull; his neck dry of blood with only a note attached to the base, pinned into the flesh indicating the sender — Scipio.

Even Hannibal’s bravest men shuttered when they heard him scream in agony over the loss of his beloved brother.

If there were any doubt to the long-term outcome of the war, Hannibal’s army had lost all hope of claiming another smashing victory against their bitter rivals upon Mago’s arrival. Little did they know they would all be going home soon.