Son of Julius Caesar: Rebuilding Rome [Business/Republic building]

"On the day this council concludes, I shall dedicate this laurel wreath to Jupiter!"

While Rome buzzed with excitement over the Nova Troia festival and the Religious Council, it wasn’t only the people of Rome and the rest of Italy who were being swept up in the commotion.

"Did you hear the news? Ships have been arriving nonstop in Brundisium lately. The port is practically overflowing."

"Ships? Who’s arriving on them?"

"Who else would come to Brundisium? The Greeks are coming, that’s what!"

"The Greeks?"

Brundisium was a port city in southern Italy. Connected to Rome by the Appian Way, it served as the primary gateway for travelers journeying between Italy and Greece.

"Ride faster! We must reach Rome first, no matter what!"

A group of mounted men galloped furiously down the Appian Way.

They were all clad in Greek cloaks—chlamydes—which fluttered wildly with every stride of their horses.

The man at the front turned his head and shouted back.

"We must reach Rome before those Lacedaemonian bastards arrive!"

"Callias, we landed before any of the other delegations! There’s no need to rush like this..."

"Do not let your guard down! The interests of all Athens depend on this! Ride faster!"

At his colleague’s words, Callias dug his heels into his horse’s flanks and bellowed.

"If we keep pushing like this, the horses will collapse! We need to stop and rest, even for a moment..."

"We can switch horses at the next village! We have no time to waste resting!"

Callias shouted once more. He was a scion of one of the most prominent noble families in Athens.

For someone like him, failure was simply unthinkable.

The Athenian Assembly had granted him full authority to negotiate on its behalf. And with that authority came an equally heavy burden: the Assembly would not tolerate failure.

His party included priests as well as fellow young nobles like himself.

"This will also be my chance to meet Lucius Caesar."

Callias muttered under his breath.

Lucius Caesar’s name was already well known throughout the Greek cities, Athens included.

For decades, Romans had traveled to Greece to study philosophy, rhetoric, literature, and the arts.

Recently, however, an increasing number of Greeks were heading to Rome in search of new technology and business opportunities. And at the very center of this massive shift stood Lucius Caesar.

His influence could be seen everywhere—from Palmolive soap and signal towers to post offices, the construction of Nova Troia, and even the current festival.

How had one man managed to accomplish so much?

He had to be a man of extraordinary dignity and presence, someone like Pericles or Solon.

Callias spurred his horse on and yelled.

"Anyone who falls behind will answer directly to the Assembly! Ride!"

Athens was not the only city rushing toward Rome.

Delphi, Thebes, Argos, Megalopolis, Dodona.

Word even arrived that far-off Massilia had dispatched a delegation.

There was only one reason countless cities were scrambling to send envoys to Rome.

"We must secure our place in this council, whatever it takes!"

***

"So, how many cities have sent delegations in total?"

"We haven’t even finished counting them all. There are over thirty confirmed so far."

Father said as we walked. I hurried to keep up with him.

More than thirty cities, huh? According to Father, delegations from over thirty cities had already arrived.

Eighty cities had formally announced their intention to participate.

And if we included the cities inquiring about attending as observers, the number easily surpassed a hundred.

There could only be one reason they were all scrambling to get to Rome.

"They want to participate in this council."

"Yes. It seems this affair is growing far larger than we originally anticipated."

I turned my head and surveyed the surrounding landscape.

The Ager Vaticanus—the Vatican Plain—was already teeming with people, from ordinary citizens hoping to catch a glimpse of the Religious Council to the delegations and priests attending its meetings.

It felt like there were even more people gathered here than in Nova Troia, where the festival was in full swing.

"For so many poleis to seek admission to the council... this is certainly an unexpected development," I said. And it wasn’t just the Greeks.

Delegations were arriving from virtually every corner of the Roman world—from North Africa and Hispania to Asia Minor.

"Everyone has realized that something monumental is underway."

Father stopped in his tracks and spoke. The lictors barely managed to hold back the crowd pressing in around us.

"They figured they couldn’t afford to be the only ones left out."

"I never imagined that deliberately keeping the council’s proceedings secret would have this effect."

While the exact topics of debate within the Religious Council remained unrevealed, practically every city in Italy had announced its participation.

Cities in Greece and elsewhere must have felt deeply anxious.

They had no idea what kind of resolutions might emerge from the meeting, so many of them had probably sent delegations simply to find out what was happening.

"At this point, I don’t think any outcome from this council would surprise me." Father let out something halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "I heard the Athenians arrived this morning. We should speak with them first."

"I’ll come with you, Father."

I followed Father’s lead. After walking for a few minutes, we heard angry shouts up ahead.

We pushed our way through the gathering crowd and found a chaotic scene waiting on the other side.

A group of men was engaged in a full-blown fistfight.

Both sides were wearing Greek chlamydes.

"You Athenian swine!"

"How dare you, you arrogant Spartan dogs, even breathe in our presence!"

Muscular men were tangled up, throwing punches with wild abandon.

They were all screaming profanities at each other in Greek.

Father signaled the lictors to break up the fight and let out another heavy sigh.

"I can never quite get used to that ’first-rate’ Greek culture."

***

Athens and Sparta. I knew very well that Athens and Sparta were age-old rivals, but I hadn’t expected the hostility between them to run this deep.

Even after the fight was broken up, the two men continued to glare daggers at each other.

After breaking up the brawl, Father left the mediation to me.

If Father stepped in personally as Pontifex Maximus, the brawl would inevitably turn into a serious political incident.

So I ended up taking on the role of informal mediator.

"They were the ones who started it, not us!"

A muscular, one-eyed man snapped. He had introduced himself as Lachares, Sparta’s representative.

Sitting beside him was Callias, the envoy from Athens.

"You spew lies every time you open your mouth. If you lot hadn’t blocked our path in the first place..."

"We blocked your path?!"

I let out a sigh as I watched the two men gear up for another round. If I left them alone, they would literally beat each other bloody all day.

"This council was convened by Father, the Pontifex Maximus, in the name of peace, order, and harmony. Yet right outside the council hall, the envoys of Athens and Sparta are brawling in the dirt."

I spoke in the calmest, most measured tone I could muster.

"Have you considered how this will reflect on Athens and Sparta in the eyes of Father and the citizens of Rome?"

Both men instantly clamped their mouths shut.

Eventually, Lachares bowed his head and spoke.

"If our conduct has caused offense to Caesar and Rome, I offer my deepest apologies."

"As do I."

"I accept your apologies. Now, may I ask why you two have traveled all the way to Rome in such a hurry?"

Athens and Sparta were Greek cities that enjoyed considerable autonomy and long-standing privileges even under Roman rule.

So why were they in such a frantic rush?

At my question, both men traded cautious glances.

They were waiting for the other to speak first.

Finally, Callias opened his mouth.

"As you well know, the gods of Rome and Greece are deeply intertwined. How could Athens possibly be absent from a council that discusses the sacred rituals of the gods?"

"Hah! You certainly have a way with words," Lachares sneered. "The Athenians merely want their ancient cultural and religious authority reaffirmed. Completely oblivious to the fact that it crumbled into dust centuries ago."

"Then why have you Spartans come?!" Callias fired back without missing a beat. "You lot don’t have a single coin to your name, parading your barbaric whipping rituals before every foreigner who comes to watch, and you dare look down on us?"

"Say that again, you bastard!"

I raised a hand to cut them off once more.

I had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

They had come to find out what the Religious Council was actually about and to curry favor with the Pontifex Maximus.

If this council expanded Father’s influence, getting on his good side early could pay off enormously.

"Let me make one thing clear. If we hear of another fight between the Athenian and Spartan delegations, Father will have no choice but to take action."

"..."

After giving them a stern warning, I wrapped up the brief conversation and exited the tent.

"We’ll discuss this later."

Felix approached me as I left the tent.

"How did it go?"

"More city delegations will arrive in the coming days. We need to make arrangements so this doesn’t happen again."

"I heard Crassus has already put his people to work. They’re deploying virtually every available slave. Accommodations won’t be an issue, at least."

"Well, that’s some good news."

I fell deep into thought. Cities were sending delegations entirely on their own, without Rome even asking them to.

At this point, even I couldn’t predict what kind of conclusion this Religious Council would reach.

Of course, we couldn’t grant formal voting rights to all these cities from outside Italy.

There was no precedent or legal basis for granting formal voting rights to cities outside Italy.

However, we could allow them to participate in an advisory capacity.

"If we play this right, we might even be able to draw in the cities that haven’t announced their participation yet."

"How?"

"By putting up banners in front of the council hall—one for each participating city, arranged around a central banner representing Rome."

Hearing my words, Felix tilted his head in confusion.

"How would that bring the other cities... Ah!"

"Right. Imagine seeing every neighboring city’s banner flying in front of the sacred council hall while your own was nowhere to be found."

Banners served as a powerful symbolic statement. If every other city’s banner was raised in front of the sacred council hall, but their own city’s was missing?

"Banners symbolizing a city..."

"The idea might feel a little unfamiliar to them, but they’ll figure out how to make one quickly enough."

The idea of a standardized civic flag didn’t really exist yet.

This council might just become the catalyst for creating such a tradition.

With delegations now arriving from across the entire Mediterranean, it was essentially the UN. Or since it’s a temple council, should I call it the United Temples?

"I doubt anything else could surprise me more than this."

However, that prediction was proven wrong not long after.

An entire kingdom—not merely another polis—announced its participation in the council.

And to top it off, the king announced that he would attend in person.

That state was Egypt, the land ruled by the Pharaoh.

***

"We should be arriving in Ostia shortly."

Ptolemy XII—better known by his epithet Auletes, the Flute Player—leaned back against a plush silk cushion.

Beside him, female slaves waved massive fans made of palm fronds.

"What do you think Rome will be like?"

"I have heard many stories about Rome." The little girl replied, turning her gaze toward the sea. "They say it is not a particularly beautiful city, with buildings clustered together haphazardly and little sense of order."

"Rome is famously nicknamed ’Romulus’s cesspit’. But I hear it has been changing dramatically of late, thanks to... what was his name again? The son of this year’s consul..."

"Lucius Caesar," Cleopatra answered. "I hear he is the talk of Rome these days."

"Yes. Word is he has achieved many remarkable feats at such a young age. He will certainly be worth meeting."

The Pharaoh let out a weary sigh.

"As you well know, the fate of our kingdom rests entirely in Rome’s hands.One misstep, and Rome could strip us of everything in an instant."

Cleopatra did not reply. Instead, she leaned back in the chair set out for her on deck.

"I have a feeling this is going to be very interesting."